


Jij Verliest

by sincerelysobbe



Series: Jij Verliest [2]
Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), M/M, Milan Has A Cute Boy, Sander-Amber Connection, Senne and Sander and Noor are roommates, Twitch Streamer!Noor, Twitch Streamer!Robbe, tattoo artist!sander
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:28:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 104,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24445087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelysobbe/pseuds/sincerelysobbe
Summary: For the past three months, Robbe’s life—and what it once was—had been stripped away and rearranged. Now, if anything, his life had become a bit repetitive: homework, stream, ignore Thomas’s Instagram, repeat. But one Friday evening, Robbe meets a hurricane in the form of a platinum-haired tattoo artist who just might show him everything that he’s been missing.
Relationships: Jens Stoffels/Lucas van der Heijden, Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans, Senne De Smet/Zoë Loockx
Series: Jij Verliest [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760539
Comments: 90
Kudos: 378





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> After such a long wait, here is the first chapter of 'Jij Verliest'! 
> 
> This fic is follows the life of Robbe IJzermans throughout a series of clips that are being posted every day on my Tumblr account (username is in the ending notes, but it's the same as my username here). You don't have to come to see it "clip-by-clip", because I know that isn't everyone's thing, but I will be compiling the full chapter here. I've been looking forward to writing this story for such a long time. Normally, I post at 21:00 (Belgian time) every day and I was planning to upload this shortly after, but I had a lot more editing to do than I thought (and I got distracted by Frozen II because my nephew wanted to watch it) so it took me a lot later to edit. 
> 
> Now, to everyone that's worried Hogwarts AU has taken a back seat, it hasn't. I promise! I'm still working on planning and working on it even while I'm writing this. There are a few things that don't 100% translate into a Harry Potter environment and so I am still working on those aspects. But, don't worry. I'm working on it. I promise. 
> 
> So, in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this story that is similarly near and dear to my heart. I can't wait to see what you guys think about it and I hope you have a wonderful week :)

**Zaterdag 9:31**

Lying awake in his bed, Robbe could hear the gentle shuffling of the flatshare in the morning.

Across the hall, the adjacent bedroom door opened and closed quietly. The floorboards creaked as someone made their way towards the kitchen (likely Zoë, his tired mind realized). Sunlight spilled in from the bay window in Robbe’s room. Due to the position of his bed against the opposite wall, he was free from the sun’s rays for a little while longer, but he was still wide awake. But the sun shined on everything else in his room; his untouched surfboard tucked behind his dresser, the skateboard against the windowsill. It even managed to touch his desk, positioned in the corner, with his two monitors and game systems, which still looked the same as Robbe left it last night, a little messy and disorganized from his late-night Friday stream.

Laying on his bed while his music lightly played a song that he mostly tuned out, Robbe could still hear the chatter of the growing crowd beneath his window, increasing in volume as time drew on and more and more people left the safety of their apartments to bask in the sunshine. Somewhere near the kitchen, he could hear the distant chatter of Milan and Zoë in the kitchen and the static of the television as someone flipped it on. All around him, the world signaled that it was time for Robbe to drag himself out of bed, to make sure that everything was going as it was meant to, and to get some food before he prepared for his afternoon stream or did some homework for the upcoming week.

But Robbe stayed planted in his bed, his gray sheets twisted around his waist, and twirling his phone in his head, unable to will himself to roll out of the comfort it provided. His alarm clock on the nightside next to his bed flashed bright red numbers— _9:31_ —at him and the chatter in the kitchen had gotten louder. The smell of Milan’s favorite coffee filled the air, wafting into his bedroom, along with the sound of sizzling food as all three of his roommates chattered in the kitchen. 

But Robbe just felt empty. 

In the past three months, the world had carried on in a way that Robbe expected it to, just moving along on the continuous cycle that life crafted for them. But, somehow, he felt stuck—his feet cemented into the floor as the rest of the world spun around him like a tornado. The reality of the situation is that Robbe was stuck _because_ the world had moved on. His friends had moved on, and they tried to bring him along with them, but Robbe always found himself doubling back, circling back around to the constant in his life that he felt was missing from his new present. 

_Thomas._

Thomas Martens was Robbe’s boyfriend of a year and six months. While not the first man that Robbe had ever been with, Thomas had been, fundamentally, Robbe’s first serious relationship. All of his other boyfriends (and, in parts of high school, girlfriends) had only lasted a couple of months or less. It was nothing serious, just a few dates here and there, texts, maybe some risky ones, and then they would just split apart. Sometimes, it was mutual. Sometimes, it was circumstantial. Sometimes, it was Robbe’s brain exploding inside his skull. But they’d separate and move past the fork in the road that was the end of the relationship. 

With Thomas, it had been his first _real_ relationship. Thomas had met his mother and they had gotten along swimmingly. Robbe had met his family and Thomas’s little sister half-demanded that Robbe would help her with her science homework every time he would come over. All of their friends got along well (with the exception of Jens who, in private, admitted that Robbe could do better). Their relationship was peaceful—some arguments, no fights that shook the walls, and they had even considered possibly moving in together after they reached the two-year mark. Their relationship was almost perfect. 

_Almost_.

Somewhere, the foundation of their relationship had cracked. Robbe could feel Thomas starting to pull away and his job was forcing him to stay at work later and later. It had frightened Robbe, because he had witnessed his father slowly pulling away until he walked out the door and his mother hit the hardest rock-bottom that she ever would. Without really meaning to, Robbe clung a little tighter to Thomas and their relationship. He subconsciously tried to be everything that Thomas needed, but he couldn’t— _they_ weren’t working the same anymore, and so about three months ago, they had broken it off. 

While Robbe was still deeply rooted in the epicenter of the twisting tornado of change, Thomas had glided across the gales with an elegant ease that Robbe was jealous of. His ex-boyfriend had moved on, deleting his pictures with Robbe across all social media platforms, and going out with his friends more and more (or, even if he was trying his best to ignore it, at least that’s what his Instagram led him to believe). The only thing that remained of their relationship was the box of Thomas’s things in the corner of his bedroom, spilling with clothes that he had left at Robbe’s, which he _still_ hadn’t come to collect. 

The thought of Thomas caused Robbe’s heart to give a frightening squeeze. He closed his eyes, trying to will away the thoughts of their relationship, the moments that Robbe still clung to, the ones that were still at the forefront of Robbe’s mind. But the harder he tried to push them away, the more intense they came back into focus, swirling around in his mind’s eye as if they were happening right now. Thomas coming over after work on Friday to be with him, his gentle kisses when Robbe was stressed about school work, his warm embrace that wrapped around Robbe like a blanket, his-

 _Knock, knock_. 

The gentle knock pulled Robbe from his thoughts, bringing him hurtling back into his bedroom, no Thomas in sight, on a quiet Saturday morning. Beneath the crack of the door, he could see someone was standing outside of it. For a moment, he thought about acting like he was asleep, like he hadn’t woken up quite yet so he could lay in bed for another hour, but Zoë spoke up, “Robbe? We made breakfast if you wanted to come to join us.”

“Okay,” Robbe said, hearing the sadness in his voice. He tried to swallow down the bubble in his throat and ignore that it had ever existed. When he spoke again, his voice was clearer than it had been the first time. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Alright,” Zoë said. He could hear Zoë shift away from the door, the floorboards creaking beneath her weight as she moved away, before she added, “I’ll try to make sure that the boys don’t eat all of the pancakes before you have a chance to get some.” 

“Thanks, Zoë,” Robbe said. A smile made its way across his face as he pushed himself off the bed. 

Pulling a pair of sweats from his dresser, he quickly slipped them over his boxers. Then, he grabbed his green hoodie from the back of his desk chair and pulled it over his head. Once he felt appropriately dressed—not like it mattered all that much with his roommates who were practically family—he stepped out of his bedroom and softly closed the door behind him. He shuffled to the kitchen, where he found all three of his roommates sitting at the table, talking as they passed food around. 

Robbe watched as Zoë rolled her eyes while Milan recounted a story of something or another. Milan spotted Robbe, grinning from ear-to-ear as he greeted, “Robbe!” He jumped to his feet and moved to pull Robbe into a tight hug. It was something that Milan always did; a constant stream of tactile affection without a thought. But today, it felt different. Robbe briefly sunk into Milan’s warm hug, wrapping his arms tight around him. Soon, the older man pulled back, grabbing him squarely by the shoulders and steering him to the table. Milan practically forced Robbe into the only unclaimed chair as he said, “Come join us!”

Zoë was sitting beside his newfound seat, wrapped up in a large grey hoodie with her platinum-blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. After placing two or three pancakes onto a plate, she handed it over to Robbe with a small smile on her face. 

“I’d hurry up if I were you. Lucas has his eye on the rest of them and he might just leap across the table and fight you for them.”

The final member of their small little family, and Milan’s cousin, Lucas van Der Heijden, looked absolutely appalled that she would say such a thing. Of the four, he was the one who looked like he had just rolled out of bed with his light brown curls messed up and pointing in all directions. He was wearing a large oversized red sweater that Robbe would bet was his boyfriend’s. Jens was Robbe’s best friend. He would know. 

“Hey,” he spoke, pointing his fork at Zoë dramatically. “I am not that bad… and it’s not my fault that your pancakes are to kill for.”

Milan laughed, shaking his head.

Zoë chuckled. Despite his earlier thoughts of Thomas, Robbe could feel a smile form on his lips as he placed the top two pancakes on his own plate. Once he was finished, Lucas made a child-like grabbing gesture with his hands and Robbe reached across the table to place the plate of remaining pancakes in his hands. Lucas grinned brightly at him and began cutting into his food. 

“Did you sleep well?” Zoë asked, raising an eyebrow at Robbe. “You were up pretty late last night.”

Robbe shrugged. “Yeah, I got about as much sleep as I could’ve gotten with a late-night stream that ran a little late because I wasn’t looking at the time,” Robbe admitted, taking a bit of his pancake. He turned towards Zoë, who was nodding her head. “Did I wake you up?”

Zoë shook her head adamantly. “No, you did really well sound-proofing your room. I just happened to wake up to go to the restroom and saw that your light was still on.” Robbe nodded, taking another bite of his food. “And I know that you’ve been streaming a lot lately.”

“Don’t worry, Zoë,” Lucas spoke up. “Robbe’s always one to know where his limits lie. In the time that I’ve known him anyway.” Robbe sent Lucas a thankful grin and the blond nodded his head in his direction. Between them, Milan sent them a knowing smile. “But do you feel like skating this afternoon? I don’t know if you’ve been listening to Aaron’s ramblings at lunch but he is absolutely convinced that he’s mastered a new move and he wants to show everyone.” 

“Really?” Robbe asked. 

“Yeah,” Lucas said, shrugging nonchalantly. “We’ll see if he ends up landing flat on his face or not. Wanna come?”

Glancing down at his food and shoving another bite into his mouth, Robbe thought about his unused skateboard, which had been sitting there since he last went skating by himself a few weeks ago.

Since he started doing late-night streams on Friday nights—one of his many (failed) attempts to push the absence of Thomas from his mind, from his life—he hadn’t been able to attend the Broerrrs Saturday morning skating competitions because he had stayed up too late and needed more sleep. He tried to make up for it by hanging out with them throughout the week, but his new schedule had reduced their time together significantly. That had been on purpose, to have as little free time as possible, so he wouldn’t have to _think_ about Thomas, but it had the unintended consequence of limiting the time he spent with his friends. 

“Yeah, I’d love to come,” he said. Robbe could feel the lingering exhaustion that was present in every bone and molecule in his body, screaming at him for more sleep. But missing his friends outweighed his exhaustion.The four of them (five, counting Lucas) had lunch together on campus regularly. But hanging out for the 30-minute lunch before classes started was different than going to the skatepark on Saturday mornings to laugh and have fun. 

“Really?” Lucas said with a grin as his bright blue eyes lit up. 

“Yeah,” Robbe replied, grinning as well. Lucas’s smile had always been quite infectious. “I’m a little tired and a bit out of it, but I miss going skating with you guys. What time did they want to meet up?”

* * *

**Zaterdag 12:41**

In the afternoon sun, Robbe could feel his clothes sticking to him. Even with his gray t-shirt and a light pair of shorts, Robbe was sweating so much and he was in _desperate_ need of a shower. The mid-afternoon sun was hot and ruthless, beating down on their shoulders and their heads as the day drew on. In addition, the dark pavement only increased the measures as their feet burned through the soles of their shoes. 

But, despite the summer heat beating down on their shoulders, suffocating them all, Robbe kicked the winning goal past a pair of skateboards standing near the other team’s backpacks and his friends cheered loudly in response. 

As soon as Robbe had arrived at the park with Lucas, his skateboard tucked under one arm, his three friends had cheered at the sight of him. His closest and oldest friend, Jens, had also promptly run over to them, planting a kiss on Lucas’s lips. But, shortly after, he ripped the skateboard from Robbe’s grasp and shoved it into Lucas’s hands. Then he dragged Robbe over to the concrete platform to Moyo and Aaron. Within seconds, Robbe was nominated as the final member of their football team while Lucas sat on the edge, shrouded in shade and cheering them on. Robbe had complained about being forcefully volunteered, but he actually welcomed the distraction. Thoughts of Thomas had once again started to edge into the front of his mind. 

But, as he scored the winning goal, Jens collided against him, picking him up easily and spinning him around. Moyo cheered, jumping up and down, while Aaron attempted to give him a high five as Jens was still spinning him. The other team came over to congratulate them on their victory for the mini-tournament. 

“Hey, Robbe!” Lucas called, waving his arm to get his attention. As Robbe forced himself from Jens’ hold, still slightly dizzy, he found his roommate lounging beneath the shade of a tree nearby. Robbe jogged over to him and Lucas tossed him his phone. There were numerous notifications from Twitch and a few from Instagram (none about Thomas, his mind registered), and a text from Yasmina about their Zoom study session tomorrow, but the thing that quickly drew his attention was the time. 

It was almost 13:00.

“Shit,” Robbe breathed out. 

“What is it?” Jens said, appearing at his shoulder. There was a look of concern on his best friend’s face as he glanced over at Robbe. With one hand, he pushed back his hair and reached toward Lucas, grasping his outstretched hand with the other. “Is everything okay?” he asked when Robbe took too long to respond as he typed out a text to Yasmina. 

“Yeah,” Robbe replied, shoving his phone in his pocket. He bent down to snatch his skateboard and his headphones from the grass beside Lucas. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair which was damp with sweat. “It’s just almost 13:00. And, since we’ve just spent about two hours playing football, I’m in desperate need of a shower.”

Jens nodded his head. “If you’re still on when I get home and clean up, I’ll join you.”

“Where are you going?” It was Moyo, stepping into the shade. 

“I haven’t even gotten to show you my trick yet,” Aaron spoke up.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Robbe said, sadness creeping into his voice. “But I’ve got to stream in an hour and I need to have a shower before I can even think of streaming or getting food.”

There was a part of him that wanted to cancel the stream, to hang out with his friends some more. It had been too long since it had been like _this_ , since Robbe didn’t feel like there was something missing, but he swallowed the thought before it continued. And, he always did online matches every weekend with viewers. It was always a blast because they always had a fun time and he wanted to do that, too. Plus, Saturdays always tended to bring a higher viewership and, since it was technically his job, it was something that he needed to take seriously. 

“It’s okay,” Aaron said. “I get it.”

“Gotta hustle,” Moyo said with a grin. 

“Yeah,” Robbe replied. “But, I’ll see your trick next time… if you can do it.” 

Aaron looked offended at the notion that he couldn’t perform the trick he’d worked so hard on and Moyo laughed, reaching over to give him a high-five before he stepped away. “Good luck, man.” Robbe smiled in thanks before moving away from them. 

The trip back to the flatshare was short. Even on the back of his skateboard with his music pounding in his ears, it only took him about ten minutes (and it only took ten minutes because the crosswalk light took forever to turn green). The promise of a cold shower to offset the flushed feeling in his skin was promising and he couldn’t wait. Once the apartment slid into view, Robbe hopped off his skateboard, picking it up with one hand and walking the rest of the way. As he walked up to the lobby door, it abruptly swung open and he leaped back before he could be struck with it. 

In its wake, Zoë stepped out, holding her purse open with one hand. She glanced up, possibly searching for something else, and instead found Robbe standing in front of her. Zoë beamed down at him as Robbe pulled his headphones off his ears. “Oh, Robbe! You’re back already? I didn’t think you would be back home for a little bit longer.”

“Yeah,” Robbe replied. “I’m streaming soon but I got roped into a football tournament.” He paused and Zoë grinned at him, raising an eyebrow. “So, I need a shower before I even think of doing anything else.”

“Ah, gotcha,” Zoë replied, smiling. She held the door open for Robbe, who quickly stepped past her to keep it open. He turned back to Zoë who was moving toward the fancy black car parked at the curb. “Milan took his shower before I did so the bathroom is all yours,” Zoë informed him. “I told Milan before I left so I’ll tell you too. I don’t know if I’m going to be back for dinner so don’t wait for me.”

“Where are you going?” Robbe asked.

Before Zoë could answer, he heard someone shout, “Hey, Robbe!” He glanced at the car, finding it now had the window rolled down. Robbe could see Senne behind the driver’s seat wearing a gray t-shirt. Robbe waved and Senne raised his hand in greeting. “I’m stealing Zoë for the day!”

“Ah, okay,” Robbe replied, grinning over at Zoë, who rolled her eyes playfully. 

Robbe had been aware that Senne and Zoë had heard that reconnected through Amber, who was one of her friends from their school. But, his roommate had been keeping their relationship secret for the past few months. In high school, Zoë and Senne had moved so quickly, it complicated things. Now, Zoë had wanted to take it slow. Robbe had only seen Senne at their apartment once in the three months since they got back together, making coffee on a Tuesday morning. 

“Does that mean I should expect you back at all tonight?”

Zoë rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. Senne and I are going out with his roommates and maybe Amber. If it ends up being later, I might stay over at his place.” She glanced toward the car, smiling at Senne, who was waiting with an amused grin on his face. Then, she turned back to Robbe. “Be honest with me. How do I look?” 

“You look perfectly fine.”

“Do I?” Zoë asked. She looked down at her shorts and her flowy summer shirt. In a nervous burst, she tried to flatten out the ends that weren’t tucked into her shorts. Then, she looked back at him. “I’m so nervous, Robbe. I haven’t met Senne’s roommates before. I mean, I have seen Sander. Occasionally, through Amber. But this is the first time I’m meeting him and their other roommate as his _girlfriend_.” 

“Zoë, breathe,” Robbe said. Zoë took a deep breath before releasing it shakily. “It’s going to be great. They are going to love you.” She looked skeptical. “Now, I would suggest heading to the car before Senne decides to get out and carry you to it.” 

Zoë laughed. “That’s definitely something he would do, isn’t it?” she asked, beaming over at Senne. Before she stepped away, she added, “I would give you a hug, Robbe. But I can see how sweaty you are, so you’re just going to get a hug tomorrow, okay?” 

Robbe laughed, nodding. 

As Zoë headed to the car, Robbe stepped into the lobby, watching her over his shoulder. Once Senne had realized she was coming, he went to get out of the car. But Zoë said something that stopped him in his tracks. Senne laughed in response. Once Zoë was in the car, her boyfriend leaned over to press a kiss against her cheek before the window rolled up. Then, the two of them were gone. 

Robbe felt something tug longingly in his heart. As he pressed the up button for the elevator, Robbe’s phone chimed loudly and he quickly pulled it out. He expected it to be one of the Broerrrs or Milan or possibly his mother. But the name **Thomas** glared up at him and his eyes darted over the message.

Thomas: _I’ll stop by and get my stuff tomorrow. 18:00. Promise_

Robbe stuffed his phone into his pocket. The elevator doors opened, and he quickly stepped inside. He reached out, slamming the _5_ harder than he meant to. But the doors closed all the same and he felt the force as he was lifted up to the flatshare—where he could shower, where he could stream, and where he could put the text out of his mind until Thomas showed up tomorrow. 

If Thomas showed up at all. 

* * *

**Zondag 18:31**

Even on days when he wasn’t streaming, which always seemed to be Sundays, Robbe still ended up at his desk. 

Next to his bed—and _maybe_ the couch on their weekly movie nights—his desk chair was the most comfortable thing in the apartment. Of course, that was on purpose. Every day, Robbe sat at his desk working on something. Between streaming and editing or doing his homework, Robbe spent a lot of time sitting at his desk, in front of his PC, or working on it. His computer system itself had two monitors. Whenever he was live, one monitor would hold his game and the other would have what he needed. Generally, it had the chat open but he also used it for Google searches occasionally. 

Now, he was doing homework with Yasmina through Zoom. Normally, Robbe would get out of the house and meet up with Yasmina at the school’s library or at a coffee shop. Today, however, Robbe stayed home. She and her family had taken a week-long trip to Morocco to see her family and wouldn’t be back until Saturday, but because of their test on the 10th, the two of them couldn’t wait until she returned to study for it and had decided to meet up virtually. 

But there was another reason Robbe stayed home: Thomas.

As Robbe scratched out his incorrect work and sighed, Yasmina glanced at him through the screen. Settled in what Robbe assumed to be a guest bedroom, Yasmina had her binder in her lap. She wore a blue hijab and a cream sweater. Copying down the last piece of his problem that he knew was correct, Robbe snuck a glance at the clock on his computer.

 _18:32_ . Robbe sighed. _He’s late._

“Is everything okay?” Yasmina questioned, raising an eyebrow as Robbe looked up at her. “You seem a little tense.”

“I’m alright,” Robbe started. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. “Just realized that I forgot to distribute the negative from the first integral so I have to rework the problem.” Yasmina nodded her head in understanding. She placed down her pencil and moved to grab her phone, which she had been charging off-screen. “If you want, you can continue. It should only take me a minute to catch up.” 

“It’s okay,” Yasmina replied, not looking up. “I’ll wait for you.” 

Robbe nodded his head, returning his work. 

Before he turned in the assignment on Wednesday, he would certainly need to rewrite it. All he had to do now was _finish_ the assignment. As he went on, his handwriting was getting increasingly ineligible. He heard Yasmina say she was getting a drink before she rose from the bed. By the time he finished the problem, Yasmina sat down with a bottle of water and adjusted her hijab in the camera. 

“Did you say that you got three-fourths for part A?”

Yasmina turned, looking over her homework. “Yes. Did you get something different?” 

“No,” Robbe said. He boxed the final number and let out a sigh. “I was just checking to make sure that I had done it right.” Yasmina chuckled, placing her binder back in her lap. “Why does he have to be so particular about everything? I swear, I’m probably going to get more points counted _off_ because it’s not the exact format that he wants than I would if I actually got the problem wrong.” 

“He’s an old math teacher who has been doing this for so long that he probably doesn’t even remember,” she said, shaking her head. Robbe felt like ‘old’ was Yasmina being nice. Their professor was _ancient._ “Of course, he’s going to be particular about everything that we do.”

There was a knock on the door, light and rhythmic, and Robbe let out a “Yeah?” to let whoever-it-is know they could come in. The door opened, revealing Milan standing in the doorway with an apron around his waist and a concerned look on his face. “Zoë and I are making dinner if you want some.” 

“I might end up bringing it in here so we can still work. We still have a lot left to do.”

“Okay.” Milan moved to step out. He glanced down to the box of Thomas’s things that Robbe had sealed last night and paused. The silence hung in the air around them and Robbe waited nervously for Milan to speak up. Then, he finally did, glancing at Robbe. “Any word from Thomas about being on his way?” 

Robbe let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. His fingers caught against the tangled strands and he pulled his fingers free. “No,” Robbe said, avoiding Milan’s concerned gaze. He glanced back at the assignment that was pulled up on the second monitor. “I haven’t heard from him. But, he said 18:00 in his message yesterday and he’s already thirty minutes late. I’m sure I’ll get a text soon saying that he is on his way or that he’s going to have to cancel…” Robbe trailed off before adding, “Again.” 

Milan stepped out into the hallway, nodding. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” Before he disappeared completely behind the closing door, he added, “I’ll let you know when the food is ready so you can come get some!” 

“Thanks, Milan,” he replied. For a moment, Robbe didn’t think that he heard him, but he heard Milan murmur back a response, muffled by the door. Robbe turned back to his desktop, his eyes finding the next problem. He was beginning to scratch it down in his notebook when Yasmina coughed lightly, getting his attention. She had her arms crossed over her chest and a protective look on her face. “What?”

“Is everything okay?” Yasmina asked. 

“Yeah,” Robbe replied. “Thomas is supposed to come to pick up his clothes. This is the third time he’s sworn that he was going to come get them and, as you just heard, he’s already thirty minutes late.” He let out a sigh and continued writing. “I just want him to come and get it over with. The box of his things has been sitting here for two months now.”

“Maybe you can ship it to him?”

“Yeah, I’ve offered,” he said, feeling frustrated with Thomas. “But all I got was ‘I’m perfectly capable of coming to pick up my things. Plus, I want to see you.’” On the other end of the screen, Yasmina rolled her eyes, putting her binder down. “I just don’t understand why he’s so insistent on seeing me when he picks up his things. I’d rather avoid all the awkwardness.” 

Robbe’s phone beeped and he reached for it, already knowing who the message was from and what it was going to say. 

“It’s only awkward if you make it awkward,” Yasmina pointed out. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Robbe said. He unlocked his phone, finding the message at the top of his notifications. Letting out a sigh, Robbe said to Yasmina, “It’s Thomas.” 

Thomas: _Sorry, can’t make it. Can I come on Tuesday?_   
_There’s a big upcoming trial and I lost track of time working on it._

Robbe let out another sigh, tossing his phone onto the desk. “Canceled again?” Yasmina guessed. Robbe raised his eyebrows and Yasmina mirrored his expression, giving him a knowing look. She sat back, shaking her head. “I don’t get some men. How is it so hard to come by and grab a box? It just seems like he wants to extend your pain.”

“Yasmina,” Robbe started. “I don’t think that’s what he wants to do.”

“What’s the other explanation, Robbe?” Yasmina asked. It didn’t take a genius to see that Yasmina was angry. Robbe didn’t blame her. He was certain that his best friends and all of his roommates shared her frustrations. But Yasmina had always been unwaveringly blunt in her opinions and fiercely protective of her friends. “All he has to do is swing by and grab a box of clothes. It should only take a minute. Maybe less! But he’s canceled on you three times now and insists that you have to be there.”

“I don’t know,” Robbe admitted. “I want him to pick up his stuff so it feels like I can move on…” He trailed off, biting down on his bottom lip as he did so. His eyes drifted over to the box, all taped up and ready.

“So tell him,” Yasmina suggested. “Tell him that he has to come and pick up his stuff next time or you’ll… I don’t know, donate it! It should not take two months for a box of clothes that you could’ve shipped to him in no time.” The girl sent him a comforting look as Robbe sighed. “You should be allowed to move on and you can’t do that with a pile of his stuff sitting on the floor that he’s refusing to pick up—”

“Technically, it’s in a box—”

“Still, Robbe,” Yasmina interrupted. “You deserve better than someone who is making it hard for you to move on for his own selfish reasons.” She paused, tilting her head to the side and letting out a sigh. “And frankly, he’s delaying the end of it. That’s why he is taking so long. If he was going to try and stay in your life, he shouldn’t have broken up with you.” 

Robbe let out a sigh, knowing that she was right and turning back to his phone. There was a message forming in his head at a breakneck speed and he quickly typed out the words onto his phone— _Yes, you can come Tuesday, but you need to pick up your things then or I’ll donate it or something. This is ridiculous, Thomas. You’ve canceled three times now and you’re the one insisting that I be here when you can pick up the box from Milan or Zoë or Lucas. I could just mail it to you. I’m sick of this. Come get your things Tuesday._

But as he moved to press send, his thumb hovering over the button, his eyes darted over the unsent message. He sighed, running his hands through his hair. _No_ , he thought, promptly deleting the message. He might be angry, but it wasn’t like him. Once the original message was gone, he typed another and hit send.

Robbe: _Yes, Tuesday is fine._ _  
_ _Good luck on the trial._

* * *

**Maandag 15:11**

Broerrrs (+ Luc)

01 June, 15:11

Jens:  _ We need a guy’s night. Outside of a skatepark. _ _   
_ _ Desperately. _ _   
_ _ You’re coming too, Luc.  _

Robbe:  _ Didn’t think you’d be so eager to be in a bar. _

Jens:  _ Hey, I can enjoy a bar. _ _   
_ _ Just not the one I work at.  _

Moyo:  _ Is it really a guy’s night if Luc is there? _

Aaron:  _ He’s got a point. _

Robbe:  _ I imagine that Lucas is only coming to get me out of my room. _

Jens:  _ No. _ _   
_ _ I would like my boyfriend. _

Lucas:  _ But it’s mostly that. _

Jens:  _ It’s not that Luc, and you know that. _

Lucas:  _ I know  _ 😘

Aaron:  _ If Jens is allowed to bring Luc, I should be allowed to bring Amber. _

Moyo:  _ I don’t know about that man.  _

Jens:  _ It’s guy’s night, Aaron. Amber isn’t a guy. _

Robbe:  _ Plus, with Luc, it’s a little different. _ _   
_ _ He’s basically one of the guys. _ _   
_ _ He just also happens to be Jens’ boyfriend. _

Jens:  _ Thank you, Robbe. _

Lucas:  _ But, don’t worry, Aaron. _ _   
_ _ It’s still mostly to get Robbe out of his room. _

Robbe:  _ Agreed. _

Moyo:  _ I guess it has been a while since we’ve all hung out together. _

Lucas:  _ It has.  _

Robbe:  _ Yeah. _

Aaron:  _ Yeah, you’re right. _

Moyo:  _ Okay, when? _

Jens:  _ How about tomorrow? I have the night off. _

Robbe:  _ Can’t. Stream. _ _   
_ _ Plus, Thomas is supposed to pick up his things. _ _   
_ _ And he insists that I be there. _

Jens:  _ Asshole. _

Lucas:  _ It’s almost over. _

Moyo:  _ I have a late-night class too. _

Robbe:  _ Tonight? _

Aaron:  _ I can’t. It’s my grandma’s birthday.  _

Jens:  _ What about Friday?  _ _   
_ _ Lucas and I both are off. _

Lucas:  _ Do I want to know how you know my schedule at the coffee shop? _

Jens:  _ I have contacts, babe.  _

Moyo:  _ I can do Friday.  _

Aaron:  _ It's good for me too. _

Jens:  _ What about you, Robbe? _

Robbe:  _ I can go. _

Lucas:  _ Wait. _ _   
_ _ Don’t you have a late-night stream on Friday? _

Jens:  _ Oh shit. _

Robbe: _ Normally. _ _   
_ _ I’ll move it to Saturday night. _ _   
_ _ And Saturday’s stream to Sunday. _

Moyo:  _ You sure? _

Robbe:  _ Yeah, it’s been a while since we’ve all hung out. _ _   
_ _ And I miss you guys. _

Lucas:  _ We miss you too. _

Jens:  _ We miss you too, Robbe. _

* * *

Thomas

01 June, 12:41

Robbe:  _ Are you still coming to pick up your things tomorrow? _

01 June, 15:11

Robbe:  _ Thomas, I know you’re working. _ _   
_ _ And you’re busy with the trial. _ _   
_ _ But I need to know whether you’re coming or not. _

Thomas:  _ Yes, I’ll be there. _ _   
_ _ Promise. _

Robbe:  _ You said that about Sunday. _

Thomas:  _ I mean it. I’ll be there. _

* * *

**Dinsdag 19:47**

Being in the middle of a stream meant Robbe was simply talking to himself. 

It wasn’t like he was talking to himself. He was always responding to someone in the chat, to viewers who donated, or to direct messages on Discord from his moderators. Whenever he spoke aloud, he would get a response in the chat and it would start an appearingly one-sided conversation. Whenever he was streaming, he tried to talk to everyone in his chat. To the best of his ability, he even tried to respond to the trolls in the chat with a minimum amount of sass. 

Whenever he streamed with other people, Robbe always felt like he wasn’t paying attention to the chat enough because he was simply conversing with another streamer, the Broerrrs or Lucas, who would sometimes sit next to him. Streaming solo allowed Robbe to focus on the chat and it allowed him to answer questions and talk to them. Of the two, he generally preferred the latter option. He enjoyed the solitude of being alone with his computer, his game, and three hundred viewers (or closer to five hundred on a good day).

But tonight? He  _ welcomed  _ the distraction his friends provided. 

Even if Robbe felt like he was on the edge of sensory overload. 

His computer screen was a little too bright. Even with one ear covered by his headphones (so he could still hear Lucas, who sat on his left) and the volume turned down lower, he still felt like Jens and Aaron were shouting in his ear. Each time something new happened — each movement of the chat, each donation, each subscriber and follower—it drew his eye, giving him a moment to focus on it before he moved on to the next item, the next text, the next thing that distracted him from looking at the clock. 

As Jens was shouting at Aaron to cover him and Robbe was concentrating on taking down as many people as he could, someone knocked on the bedroom door. Lucas got up to open it and Milan stepped inside the bedroom. The solemn look on his face prompted Robbe to mute the microphone, his character dying in the process, and Jens let out a shout through the speakers that caused all of them to flinch. It was only when Robbe looked up that Milan said, dropping the news like he had scratched his nails across a chalkboard, “He’s here.”

_ Thomas _ .

Right. 

Robbe swallowed, his shoulders heavy as he tried to keep his mind steady. Suddenly, his fingers felt too big on the controller and he shifted in his seat, saying, “Tell him I’ll be right there.” 

Milan nodded.

Lucas sat back down, disbelief in his tone. “Really? He actually showed up?” The sarcasm dripped from his words even as he comically ate a handful of popcorn. He pivoted to Milan. “Are you sure it’s him and not some look-alike imposter? Doesn’t seem like his style.” Before leaving the room, his cousin attempted to send a disapproving look to Lucas but his face betrayed him, twisting into a grin.

“Behave,” Robbe said, sending Lucas a quick look. His friend shrugged before Robbe unmuted the microphone. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a little tense, and announced, “Sorry about that, guys. Something came up and I have to take a break.” Jens groaned loudly, and Robbe muted him. “But no need to fear, Lucas is going to take over and provide you with some quality commentary for a few minutes.”

“I am?” Lucas asked.

“Yes, you are,” Robbe said, grinning. He unmuted Jens and pulled the bag of popcorn from his roommate’s hands. “But, fair warning, Jens and Lucas have a tendency of making people feel overbearingly single. I have a feeling it’ll only get amplified.”

“Hey!” Jens protested. 

“It’s true and you know it.” Robbe placed the bag of popcorn against one of his photos before he shoved the controller into Lucas’s hands. Despite not playing much of Fortnite, Lucas immediately started playing. As Lucas leaned to the camera, trying to get a better look at the screen, Robbe moved to give him more space. Before he got up, he glanced one more time at the chat, which was filling up with fast-moving questions. 

Unable to answer them, or admit that he was giving clothes to his ex, he simply repeated, “I’ve got to do something real quick and I’ll be back in a few minutes. Be on your best behavior for Lucas. He’s not as good at multitasking as I am.” 

Lucas rolled his eyes and scoffed. Once Robbe scooted his chair back, completely out of the path of the desk, Lucas took over the space that he left. Jens said something witty (and vaguely flirtatious) that caused a faint blush to ghost over Lucas’s cheeks. 

As he stepped away from his computer, Robbe steeled his nerves and tried his best to cement the tornado of emotions in his chest. His brain ticked down to its eventual explosion, overrun with emotions and thoughts. Letting out a breath, Robbe grabbed hold of Thomas’s things and pulled the box to his chest. Then, he opened up the door and stepped out. As he shut the door, Lucas let out a string of curses and Robbe chuckled at his friend. 

At the end of the hallway, he saw Thomas talking with Zoë at the front door and the mere sight of him brought back the tornado.

It had been over two months since Robbe had last seen Thomas. 

One day, Robbe had been racing to school because he slept through his alarms. He had spent the previous night working on an assignment, so he was late in meeting with Yasmina. On his way, he stopped at his normal coffee shop to get a coffee for forgiveness. But, in his haste, Robbe had forgotten that it was _their_ normal coffee shop, right down the street from Thomas’s law firm. As he waited for his order, he was surprised to find Thomas sitting at a table with a handful of coworkers. Once Thomas had seen him, there was no escaping the awkward small talk; about Robbe’s mom, Thomas’s mom, and their work. Once his order was ready, Robbe sprinted out of there faster than he had arrived. 

This time, it felt different. 

Thomas was dressed in a pair of dark slacks and a crisp button-up shirt. His tie was undone, loose and hanging across his neck, and his hair, normally styled to perfection, was disheveled—like he had run his hands through it several times. It was one of his tells. Thomas was nervous and stressed about work and Robbe hated the fact he still noticed. He had let his stubble grow out a little more and he was smiling kindly at Zoë, who was absent-mindedly listening to him chatter. His presence in the flatshare, right in front of him, caused Robbe’s heart to thump nervously in his ribcage. 

Thomas’s eyes, bright and hazel, flickered over to Robbe standing outside his bedroom door with the box in hand, and Robbe couldn’t help feeling his initial instinct to run and hide. 

“Hey, Robbe,” he greeted. Robbe swallowed the knot in his throat, barely managing a half-smile as he moved toward them. Zoë sent Robbe a wary look as she moved into the living room, where a theme song was playing. As she passed him, she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Robbe extended the box to Thomas. “Here’s everything that I found that belonged to you.” Thomas nodded, taking it from his hands. As he did, his fingers brushed over Robbe’s and the latter flinched, trying not to seem stiff. He took a step back and shoved his hands into his pockets. Robbe couldn’t tell if the motion had been accidental or on purpose, but it sent an uncomfortable shock through him. Rocking back and forth on his feet, he asked, “Did you happen to find any more of my things in your room?”

Thomas shook his head. “No, I think you managed to get everything.”

“Okay.” 

There was a long, drawn-out silence between them. Robbe continued shifting his weight from one foot to the other, wondering how long he would have to stay here before he would be legally able to go back to his bedroom. At least in his stream, his stomach wouldn’t be twisting as his ex stood in front of him, acting like it wasn’t awkward. Once enough time had passed in silence, Robbe opened his mouth to say something about the stream, but Thomas suddenly spoke up. “How are you doing?”

Robbe blinked. “Huh?”

“With school and everything?” Thomas elaborated. When Robbe didn’t answer, he continued, “And your mama? How’s she doing?”

“I’m fine,” Robbe answered, too loudly and too quickly. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “And Mama’s fine. Just some ups and downs, but she’s still on her medications and her job is going well and she’s still seeing her therapist once a week so…” He trailed off. The silence returned between them, as uncomfortable as it was before. For the briefest of moments, Thomas looked like he was about to say something, but Robbe needed to get back to his stream, away from small talk with the man who broke his heart. Before Thomas could speak, Robbe said, “I’ve got to get back to the stream. Lucas is keeping it going right now.” 

Thomas’s face twisted in annoyance, his eyebrows furrowed. “Really? Now?”

Robbe’s stomach twisted—but this time, it was anger. He crossed his arms, trying to keep his anger contained in his chest. “Yes, really,” he replied. Robbe hated when Thomas acted like this, like Robbe had done something for the sole purpose of aggravating him. “I’ve been streaming from 18:00 to 21:00 every Tuesday for the past three months. My day off was on Sunday,” he said. “But you were the one that canceled on me, remember?”

Thomas stayed quiet and still, his arms stiff as he clutched at the handles of the box. But Robbe didn’t need to be a genius to know that Thomas was trying not to roll his eyes. That was another tell—one Robbe hated that he could still identify after three months. 

“Do I need to show you out?” 

Thomas shook his head, moving toward the still-open front door with the box in his hands. “No, I’ll see you later, Robbe.” 

“Bye.”

Once Thomas had stepped through the door, Robbe pushed it close and leaned against the wooden frame. As he stood there, his eyes fluttered closed and he stayed there for several moments. Even with the heavy door between them, he could hear the sounds of Thomas’s heavy footsteps, heading in the direction of the elevator. 

He was angry. 

_ He had no right to be angry _ . 

Robbe listened to the beep of the elevator, signaling that it had arrived, and the following beep before it descended back down to the lobby, adding more distance between Robbe and Thomas’s silent, barely-contained anger. Robbe let out a breath of relief and sadness, shaky and uncertain as he stood there. He stayed against it for a few more heartbeats, shoving the sadness into the bottle in his chest, struggling to maintain his breath. 

Once his breath evened out, Robbe pushed himself off the front door and headed to his bedroom. 

As Robbe sat back down in his comfortable desk chair, Lucas willingly relinquished the controller at the end of that match. He ran a hand over Robbe’s shoulder in comfort, seemingly aware of the tension of the silent confrontation. As soon as the next match started back up, Robbe threw himself back into it and back into the stream, keeping an eye on the chat and donations. If his viewers realized he was down, they didn’t make a big deal out of it—and Robbe didn’t feel like calling himself out if no one really noticed. 

Lucas rested his head against Robbe’s shoulder and patted his arm. Jens drew him back into making fun of Aaron’s poor Fortnite skills. None of his friends brought up Thomas, the meeting, or asked him to talk about it. And, for that, Robbe was thankful. 

* * *

**Woensdag 11:26**

Casa

03 June, 11:03

Zoë:  _ Robbe, what are you and the Broerrrs doing next Wednesday? _

Milan:  _ What’s going on? _

Lucas:  _ Robbe’s in his class rn and Yasmina’s still out of town  _

Zoë:  _ Do you know when he gets out? _

Lucas:  _ Uh, 11:30.  _ _   
_ _ I think? _

03 June, 11:26

Robbe:  _ 11:25 actually _ _   
_ _ And, I don’t know _ _   
_ _ Other than streaming and a test, I don’t have anything planned. _ _   
_ _ Why? _

Zoë:  _ Jana’s going to be back in Antwerp on Monday! _ _   
_ _ And she wants to see everyone. _ _   
_ _ The girls and I are going to meet up at a café or a bar next Wednesday.  _ _   
_ _ So I wanted to see if you guys could join us? _

Robbe:  _ I’m not sure about the others _ _   
_ _ But I’d love to see her again _ _   
_ _ How long will she be in town? _

Zoë:  _ A week and a half.  _ _   
_ _ Apparently, she’s taking the summer off. _ _   
_ _ But she’s got an internship back in America that starts in two weeks. _

Robbe:  _ Cool! I’ll ask. _

Lucas:  _ Jana? As in Jens’ ex, Jana? _ _   
_ _ Just making sure that I have the right name. _

Zoë:  _ Yes. That’s her. _ _   
_ _ But she has a boyfriend in America btw. _

Lucas:  _ I’m just nosy. _

Zoë:  _ Lucas, you should come too. _

Lucas:  _ I don’t know. I don’t really know her. _

* * *

Chat Name: Broerrrs (+ Luc)

03 June, 11:31

Robbe:  _ What’s everyone doing next Wednesday night? _

Jens: _ What time? _

Moyo:  _ All my classes are in the afternoon. _

Aaron:  _ I don’t have anything. _

Robbe:  _ I’m not sure what time. Just at night. _ _   
_ _ Zoë said that Jana is going to be back in town and she wants to see everyone. _ _   
_ _ The girls are meeting up on Wednesday and Zoë wanted to see if we could join. _

Jens:  _ Oh, I didn’t know she was coming back so soon. _ _   
_ _ How long is she staying for? _

Robbe:  _ According to Zoë, a week and a half. _

Moyo:  _ I’d be down to hang out with them. _

Jens:  _ I just need to know what time. I may have to work that day.  _ _   
_ _ Char hasn’t released the schedule for next week yet. _

Aaron:  _ I’ve got nothing planned but working on a project. _ _   
_ _ And I could use a break. _

Lucas:  _ Or twenty. _

Aaron:  _ Hey! _

Jens:  _ Luc, are you coming? _

Lucas:  _ I don’t know. I don’t know Jana. _

Robbe:  _ You should come. _ _   
_ _ Zoë did say that you were invited. _

Jens:  _ Yeah, plus, you can always hang out with the rest of us. _ _   
_ _ And we can always leave early and have some of our own fun.  _ 😏

Lucas:  _ Oh really?  _ 😏

Moyo:  _ Hey, VDS.  _ _   
_ _ What did we say about flirting in the group chat? _

Jens:  _ Sorry. _

Robbe:  _ No, you’re not. _

Moyo:  _ You’re making us feel single. _

Lucas:  _ We’ll just go flirt in our private messages. _

Moyo:  _ Good lord. _

Robbe:  _ So, I’m taking that as a yes, Lucas is coming? _ _   
_ _ No jokes, Jens. _

Jens:  _ Why me? _

Robbe:  _ Why not you? _

Lucas: _ Yes, I will come to the gathering and meet Jana. _ _   
_ _ But only because Jens asked. _

Jens: 😘

Robbe: _ I’ll let Zoë know. _

* * *

**Donderdag 19:50**

Every Thursday night, Robbe would visit his mother. 

It had been a routine since Robbe had moved back out of their apartment and into the flatshare with Milan and Zoë (again). Every Thursday afternoon, Robbe would end his stream a little early, grab his things, and head over to his mama’s house. On his mother’s good days, his roommates would come with him (or, occasionally, one of the Broerrrs) and his mother would relish the burst of life in the flat. On his mother’s bad days, he would go by himself, because his mother didn’t like people seeing her like that. He knew she didn’t like  _ him  _ seeing her like that, but he still took care of her. 

Today was one of her good days.

When Robbe had arrived, knocking on the door, she had thrown it open with an ear-to-ear smile as she pulled him inside. If someone were to walk by, it was impossible to deny that they were related. Robbe had inherited almost all of Marie IJzermans’s features—from her narrow face, her smaller form, and her long russet curls, tied back into a ponytail. Other than the pair of glasses perched on her nose, the resemblance was uncanny. 

From the moment that his mother had pulled him into the small kitchen/dining room, she had launched into a tale that had made her smile so wide it must’ve hurt. Robbe moved around the kitchen at her order, helping her make some homemade pizza. He grabbed ingredients from the counter as she directed him, pausing mid-sentence in her story before continuing like she never stopped. As soon as one tale had ended, another one began. The tales lasted through their cooking session and continued as they sat down to eat. 

For a moment, Robbe had forgotten about everything—about Thomas and his busy work schedule, about his school schedule and all the assignments he still had to do. For a moment, all he could think about was his mama and how she was having a good day; she was laughing, getting him to laugh, and it was infectious. As they wrapped up dinner, his mother’s phone rang and she hurried to get it. “Oh, it’s Margot.” One of her coworkers, he remembered. “I’m so sorry, I have to get this, Robbe.”

“It’s okay,” Robbe said, standing up. “I’ll start on the dishes.”

“It should only take a moment,” his mother promised before stepping out of the room. 

Standing up, Robbe collected the dishes and the silverware from the table. He placed the plates and cups into one half of the sink before filling it with water and soap, letting it soak for a few minutes. Walking around the kitchen in almost uniformed precision, he put away the leftovers in the fridge and straightened up the table exactly how his mother liked it. Then, he set to work on the dishes, pulling one out of the water and scrubbing away the food, humming to himself, and trying to keep his lingering thoughts buried in his mind. 

Since the breakup, Robbe had tried to keep busy. His streaming schedule intensified and he always managed to do his homework between lulls, between classes and streams. He had done everything virtually and physically in his power to do so. When he rode his bike, his music was always blasting in his ears, loud enough to drown out his thoughts (and possibly cause loss of his hearing over time—the jury was still out). The constant movement kept those thoughts at bay, helping Robbe move on from the breakup he didn’t want. 

But, in moments like this, where Robbe wasn’t thinking about multiple things, where Robbe was doing something as simple as washing the dishes, thoughts of Thomas overran every defense that he managed to construct around his heart. 

Robbe tried to control his brain, to return to the task in front of him: washing the dishes and being with his mama. But, even as he told himself that repeatedly—as he tried to reign his mind back into the present, to his mother’s voice outside the kitchen—his brain ignored his futile attempts of returning to the present. It dragged up Thomas without hesitation, thrusting Robbe into the past so quickly that he got whiplash. 

There were so many memories that seemed to jump to the front of his mind. One, in particular, stood out among all the others—of Thomas, talking with his mom in the living room of this apartment in quiet whispers about plans for Robbe’s surprise birthday party, as Robbe did the dishes, watching them through the cut-out. The thought made warm tears spring to the corners of his eyes. A single tear fell from the corner of his eye, trailing down his cheek. Before his mother could return, Robbe wiped it away, trying to screw the cap back on his emotions. 

_ No, _ he thought to himself. His thoughts were directed at the tears that were still threatening to escape.  _ Not today, not now.  _

Robbe knew all too well that he shouldn’t—couldn’t—bottle up his emotions. They shook inside the container that he kept them in, stationed in his chest, located by his lungs and out of sight. He knew it was dangerous. His bones rattled and his brain was on the cusp of an explosion that could take down a city block. The last time he felt like this, he nearly ruined his friendship with the Broerrrs because he wouldn’t open up. 

But he did it anyway. 

He didn’t want to burden his mama with his recurring thoughts about Thomas. Not when she was continually struggling with her own issues. The past few months had been tough on her. Her medications weren’t working as effectively as they should and were in need of readjustment. The mere fact worried her intensely. The last thing that his mama needed to worry about now was Robbe’s lingering heartbreak. If Milan or Zoë were up when he got back to the flatshare, he would talk to them.

“Robbe, sweetheart,” his mother said, appearing at his side like smoke. She reached around him to pull the plate from his grasp. He blinked back to reality as his pruney fingers let go of the plate in his grasp. She placed the plate in the drying rack before turning to him. There was a worried expression on her face as she rested a hand on his shoulder. Robbe picked up another plate and began scrubbing. “You were scrubbing that same plate for five minutes. Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah,” Robbe answered, swallowing the knot in his throat. He struggled to control his voice before he continued, not wanting his mama to hear the sadness in his voice. “I just got a little lost in my own thoughts is all. I’m okay.” 

“Robbe,” his mama said, sounding all-knowing and wise. She ran her hand across his back, taking the new plate from his hands and placing it back into the dirty water. She reached down to take his wet hands in her own, swatting away the sponge that he was desperately clinging to. “If you think that I don’t notice when you’re holding something back, you are sorely mistaken. Now, what’s going on that’s eating away at you so much?”

Robbe opened his mouth to speak, but he wasn’t sure what to say. He thought about pushing away his mother’s concerns with a steady voice or to repeat that he was fine. However, with his mouth opened, no words came out. Robbe was left there, opening and closing his mouth, until the tears sprung back to his eyes and the emotions burst out from their containment, overflowing with vigor. A sob was ripped out of his chest and his legs buckled beneath him. Robbe gripped the counter to steady himself, to collect his emotions back into the jar, to steady himself. 

His mother’s arms wrapped around him, her hands smoothing down his hair, and she whispered, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let it all out.” 

At his mother’s words, at her reassuring strokes to his hair, the tears spilled freely and openly down his cheeks without inhibition. They were overwhelming and forceful and torrential, spilling from his eyes in waves. His legs buckled beneath him again and his mother gently lowered them both to the floor. She held onto him tightly until the tears subsided. When they did, she held onto him tighter, rocking him gently on the tile floor as she smoothed back his hair.

“I’m sorry,” Robbe whispered, his voice slightly scratchy. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart,” his mama said gently. She pressed a kiss against his temple before reaching up to scrub off the dried tear streaks. “You know that you don’t have to be strong for me, right?” Robbe leaned into her embrace, holding her arm tightly. “Keeping your emotions bottled up is only going to hurt you.” 

Robbe let out a shaky breath, his voice hoarse as he said, “I just wish that I felt better.” 

For a moment, his mama was quiet before she asked, “About Thomas?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, sitting up. Her arms moved as he shifted, letting him go so he could lean against the cabinet, facing her. He let out a heavy sigh as his mother rested her chin against his knee. “I just thought that I would feel better by now,” he admitted. “It’s been three months now… and sometimes, it just feels like it happened yesterday.” His mama nodded, rubbing her thumb across his knee. “It just feels like Thomas moved on so quickly, without even blinking, and I haven’t moved an inch.”

His mama reached out, taking his hand in her own. She curled her fingers around his hand and he quickly mirrored the action. “Everyone reacts to situations differently, Robbe,” his mama whispered. “You do not have to move on at the same pace as Thomas. Even though you were in a relationship, the two of you are different people and how you guys move on from your break up will be different.” She turned his hand over so it was palm-up in her own, tracing unintelligible patterns against the skin. “But you have to let yourself mourn, Robbe.”

“Huh?”

“Your relationship and Thomas meant so much to you,” his mama replied. “Both were very important pieces of your life for over a year. I know that it’s difficult to think about, but you need to let yourself mourn and cry about it. Once you’ve done that, you’ll start to feel a little better. Once that’s done, you will finally be able to mend your heart and move on.” Robbe nodded. “But, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with taking a little longer to move on from someone that was so important to you and your life.” 

“I know,” Robbe whispered, feeling the tears well up again. “I just… I loved him so much, Mama, and I still love him. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that I could find someone else who even makes me feel even a fraction of what I felt for him.”

“You will,” his mama answered, certain and true as she clasped his hand tightly. “Right now, it may seem a little hard for you to believe. But you  _ will  _ fall in love again. And, it’s going to be just as beautiful and magical as it was the first time.” Robbe let out a sigh, shifting to rest his head against his mama’s shoulder. She patted his hand, resting her head against his. “You’re going to be fine and wonderful and you’re going to move at your own pace. You just have to let yourself.”

Robbe swallowed. “I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” his mother whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

* * *

**Vrijdag 20:23**

Robbe couldn’t remember the last time that he laughed so hard. 

They had arrived at the bar that Jens had chosen an hour ago and Robbe hadn’t felt as relaxed as he did now in the past three months. It was a small bar with just enough people inside to fill the tables, a jukebox playing a soft 80s song that Thomas would’ve hated, and a billiards table with a crowd of people around it. There were enough tables to form a pathway and a black-haired man behind the bar with black-framed glasses on his face. There were various groups around the bar—a loud group by the jukebox, others around the room, one on the edge of the bar. 

It was the type of bar where friends came to hang out and have a good time. But overall, it wasn’t Jens’s typical style for clubs. 

Jens liked hanging out at clubs with bright neon lights and pounding music. After getting a beer or two, he used to hype up Moyo to talk to the girl that he had been eyeing, pat him on the back for making an attempt, and eventually find someone to spend the evening with. Once he and Lucas had started dating, the last step morphed into him dragging Lucas onto the dance floor, a little buzzed and drunk on each other’s presence. 

But when Robbe arrived with Lucas in tow, his best friend seemed at ease, grinning from ear-to-ear when he saw them and craning his head to kiss his boyfriend. All of their friends had arrived before them, waiting patiently at the six-chaired table they had chosen. Lucas and Robbe had been cornered by Milan on their way out of the apartment to get their opinion on his date outfit for his third date with Jonathon. Then they argued about taking the bus vs. their bikes (“No, I’m taking my bike because you’re probably going to Jens’s place,” and then, “Robbe, I don’t know that,” and then, “Really? Every time we go out, you go home with him. I’m right and you know it. I’m taking my bike,” and finally “Okay, you’ve got a point.”). While Lucas claimed the seat next to Jens, Robbe chose the seat where he could see the rest of the bar. 

For the first ten minutes, there was an awkwardness in the air that none of them could shake. It was like they were all struggling to get used to the “new normal.” Robbe tucked his feet beneath his thighs as his friends struggled to find things to talk about. Aaron started talking about his recent date with Amber, but it ended after Jens subtly shook his head (Robbe pretended that he didn’t notice). Moyo talked about how he met a girl in one of his classes, but that earned him a head shake from Jens as well. Finally, Lucas started telling stories of what he had witnessed at the coffee shop, which kicked off a series of laughs and groans of embarrassment. 

Within thirty minutes, Robbe felt the tension in his shoulders melt away. His laughter was practically ripped out of his chest, increasing in magnitude with each new story that Lucas told with a frightening amount of detail. After a handful of stories and a beer or two in his system, Lucas was half-leaning against Jens’ side, his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. A story about two baristas who ended up spilling frappuccino all over each other brought out laughs from everyone.

“Better a frappuccino than a hot coffee!” Moyo pointed out, his hands covering his face. Beside him, Aaron cackled loudly, his eyes scrunching up as he shoved a handful of chips into his mouth. Lucas laughed as Jens tightened his hold on him. 

“But,” Lucas spoke up, looking serious out of nowhere. He sat up in Jens’s arms and pivoted to the group, leaning in to talk to them like he had a big secret. Robbe took a drink of his second beer, which he had been nursing since he downed the first one. “That’s not nearly as embarrassing as the story where that guy had something to prove at the bar.” Lucas turned to Jens, who ran a hand over his face and groaned loudly. “It was embarrassing to witness.”

“How bad?” Robbe asked, giggling. 

“So bad,” Jens answered, letting out a low whistle. 

“Well, come on, tell us the story!” Aaron urged. 

Jens rolled his eyes, sitting up. “Fine, fine. It was somewhere around Christmas, right? So it’s late in the evening and we’ve got this huge party that’s coming in. Lots of food and a free bar tab that the company is paying for or whatever and-” 

A loud laugh echoed through the bar, over the sound of his best friend’s chatter, over the gentle murmur of the bar. While he could still hear Jens chattering, his brain tuned it out and his eyes immediately went to the bar, searching out the laugh in question. It took several glances over the bar before he found the back of Thomas’s head—which he could recognize anywhere. He found his ex sitting across from a guy with dirty blond hair and a pair of glasses. The two of them were talking to each other, laughing over a couple of beers. 

All at once, the bar felt suffocating, closing in on him from the outside. Robbe reached out, grabbing his second beer and downing it. If his best friends thought it was weird, they didn’t say it (though Jens did send him a questioning glance mid-sentence). However, downing the remainder of his beer did next to nothing to distract him from Thomas. Sure, his mind was a little bit hazy now, but his eyes were still drawn to Thomas, and the bar still felt like it was suffocating. 

Without thinking, Robbe got on his feet and pushed his chair in. Once he realized his friends were staring, he said, “I’m going to get some air.” 

“Are you okay?” Jens asked, concerned. 

“I’m fine,” Robbe lied. “I’m just going to get some air. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

Even as Robbe stepped into the summer night, he knew his best friend wasn’t convinced. The door slammed shut behind him, abruptly cutting off the 80s music with a sharp  _ snap _ . Even though he had simply stepped outside, he felt like he could breathe again—at least better than in the bar. In the warm night air, Robbe could feel his hazy mind wanting to collapse and hide in the shame of his feelings. But he consciously stepped towards the bike rack; away from the bar, away from his friends. 

Once he had taken a few steps, he glanced over his shoulder and relief flooded his system when he realized his friends couldn’t see him anymore. 

Without consciously making the decision to, Robbe collapsed against the brick wall. Through his t-shirt, the brick scratched relentlessly against his back as he slid to the pavement. He pulled his knees up against his chest and wrapped his arms around his knees, like he was trying to hold himself together. He didn’t want to ruin what was supposed to be “guy’s night out.” Robbe’s breath was shaky as he exhaled, resting his forehead against his knees to even his breath. 

From a distance, he heard the bar door open. There was a brief, abrupt moment of that 80s song interrupting the silence in the street before it was cut off with the slam of the door. Still wrapped in his cocoon of his arms and legs, he could hear someone walking in his direction and the mechanical sounds of a lighter. The footsteps stopped as a shadow passed over him. A deep voice—one that Robbe didn’t recognize—asked, “Are you okay?” 

Robbe wasn’t—and he was certain this stranger knew that or he wouldn’t have asked—but Robbe wasn’t the type of person to pour his heart out to a random stranger, so he mumbled, in the most sincere tone he could manage, “I’m fine.” 

There was a moment of quiet.

Then, “Well, you don’t look fine.” Robbe snorted. “In fact, you look the opposite of it. And when I don’t look fine, my roommate always suggests that I smoke and talk about my troubles… So, here.”

Robbe tilted his head towards the stranger. The refusal was on the tip of his tongue. He might be confused, desperate to forget Thomas, and buzzed, but Robbe was smart enough not to take a drag from a stranger’s cigarette. As he turned, his eyes caught sight of the joint. It rested between the tips of the stranger’s long and tanned fingers, held out for him to take. The refusal caught in his throat as his eyes caught sight of the tattoos on his wrist.

It started at his wrist, tall black grass encompassing his wrist completely before extending upward as tall black trees. Each tree reached a different spot on his arm and they all stopped before reaching his elbow. The space between the trees was filled with other tattoos—a sunflower, two different dragonflies, and some which Robbe’s hazy, emotional brain couldn’t identify. Each piece flowed together and intertwined like one seamless, intricate design. From his angle, he could tell that the tattoo continued beneath the sleeve of his shirt, but he couldn’t identify what it was.

His eyes flickered up the rest of the way, catching sight of the man’s features, slightly obscured by shadows. From where he was standing, he was blocking the light above Robbe’s head, which shined down on his head like a real-life halo. The halo effect shined a little brighter because of his bright, bleached hair, like Zoë’s. The man moved to sit down beside Robbe, sliding down against the brick, and it was only then that he saw his features in full. The sharp curve of his jawline—bright green eyes, a dark eyebrow that quirked up as a silent question, a crooked smirk of a smile, the meticulous style of his white-blond hair. 

_ Fuck _ , Robbe thought, immediately averting his eyes.

The man extended the joint again. Swallowing, Robbe managed to shake his head and get out. “No, thank you.”

“I didn’t poison it,” the mysterious (hot) stranger said, a slight tilt in his voice. As if to prove his point, he brought the joint up to his lips and took a long drag. Robbe watched briefly as the smoke poured from his lips before turning back to the street in front of them. “So, what’s going on?” the stranger asked. Robbe glanced over at him as he leaned against the building. “I saw you leave the bar a little bit ago.” Robbe didn’t believe that, but he didn’t refute. “And you were sitting quite dramatically. Something must’ve happened.” 

Okay, he lied. Sober, level-headed Robbe wouldn’t spill his heart out to a stranger. But currently, Robbe was neither sober nor level-headed. And the stranger had asked him what was wrong, which was more than Thomas had done in the last few months of their relationship. He let out a heavy sigh and said, “My ex was inside… with someone else and I just don’t want to deal with it. I had to get out.” 

“Ouch,” the stranger said, wincing. “That must suck.”

“A little, yeah,” Robbe admitted. 

“Was it a bad breakup?” the stranger asked. “I’ve had at least one messy one, so I can relate if that’s the case.”

Robbe let out another sigh, turning to him. The stranger stared at him with bright, curious green eyes. The joint was still resting in his fingers. The tip balanced dangerously on his bottom lip before he parted his lips and took another drag. “It wasn’t really messy,” Robbe admitted, the smoke filling the space around them briefly before it dispersed. “It was mostly mutual because we had started to pull apart from each other and such. But, it still…” he trailed off, unable to find the words.

“Hurts,” the stranger filled in. 

Unable to say anything else, Robbe nodded. He could see the stranger nodding out of the corner of his eyes, breathing out smoke into the air around them. Silence fell over the space between them and Robbe bit down on his lip. The man looked like he was about to say something else and Robbe turned to him, ready to hear what he might say. 

But, quite abruptly, the door to the bar flew open again. 

The sound of the jukebox spilled out onto the street, suddenly and loudly, now playing a modern rap song. Robbe turned toward the front door—in his periphery, he saw the mysterious stranger doing the same—to see who was leaving the bar. Dread temporarily formed in his stomach, wondering if it would be Thomas and his date. But it was Jens who stepped out. Once he spotted Robbe, he made a beeline for them. Behind him, his boyfriend and their friends exited the building quickly. Jens stopped in front of Robbe and said, hurriedly, “We’re leaving, Robbe.” 

“Huh? What do you mean?” Robbe asked, blinking up at him. 

“Well, Moyo got a text from Luca about a club that she’s at with the girls and we wanted to go check it out if you wanted to,” Jens answered matter-of-factly. “We might gain some of the girls. But it’s still going to be guys’ night and we just might manage to get Moyo a date.”

Despite being happy at the prospect of leaving, Robbe was confused. Jens had talked about how he had picked this bar (based on Senne’s recommendations) so they could hang out without the distractions of the typical club: neon lights, pounding music, chaos. But now they were going to go to the same place that he had been trying to avoid?

Looking for answers, Robbe glanced at their friends. He could see that the three of them were tense and maybe a little lost. Aaron was the closest to the street, typing away at his phone. Lucas was talking to Moyo in hushed voices as he sent a glare into the bar. Without needing to ask, Robbe knew who he was looking at. Whenever Thomas was mentioned, Lucas would make the same face, a mixture of distaste and protectiveness. 

Realization hit him.

They must’ve seen Thomas.

“Okay,” Robbe said. He pushed himself up to his knees, but, once he was standing, he remembered that he wasn’t alone against the brick wall. He glanced down at the stranger, who was still sitting against the wall with the cigarette in his mouth. He wore an amused grin as his green eyes darted between them. “Thanks for the talk, um…” Robbe trailed off. In the few minutes since he had sat down, Robbe realized that he had never gotten the mysterious stranger’s name. 

The man held out his hand and Robbe took it. His hand was much larger than Robbe’s, practically swallowing his smaller hand, and warm to the touch. “Sander.” 

Robbe nodded, sending him a small grin. “Thank you, Sander.”

The mysterious man, no, Sander, beamed up at him, his lips twisting in a quirky smirk as he said, “You’re welcome, Robbe.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're here with another chapter! 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for the support for this chapter, both on here and on Tumblr. This story is near and dear to my heart and I'm so glad to show you guys what I have in store. 
> 
> Before we continue into the chapter, I want to give a huge shout out to Valentina (tumblr: [nooraevas](https://nooraevas.tumblr.com)) because she has been helping me with editing and without her, there would be way too many silly mistakes which I know would distract from the story. So, once again, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU so much Valentina <3
> 
> Onto the chapter!

**Zaterdag 22:35**

Considering the piercing hangover he had been nursing for most of the afternoon (thanks to Jens convincing him to take shots once they arrived at the club), the stream had gone surprisingly well. 

During the four-hour stream, Robbe had made sure to read every comment and donation that came across his screen. There were a few trolls that had wandered into his chat, trying to bait him into exploding or doing something stupid, but he had told them off with a minimum amount of discomfort in his bones and had timed them out of the stream for good measure. Internally, he made a note to do more late-night Saturday streams because there was a lot more turnout in viewers and a lot more interaction, in comparison to his typical afternoon stream. 

Letting out a sigh, Robbe sat back in his desk chair, blindly reaching for his phone, which was filled with numerous notifications from most of his apps. It was still perched on the corner of his desk, where he had left it before he started getting set up. When he was streaming, Robbe tried to keep himself invested in what was in front of him, but he kept his phone close on the off chance that his mother needed to speak to him immediately. 

Rocking back and forth, he scrolled through the group chat with his friends, who had launched into a topic about other memes and their classroom assignments. After he managed to get to the bottom of the chat, he fired off a quick text message before moving on. He spent a few minutes on Twitter, reading over and liking comments about tonight’s stream. Before he switched over to Instagram, where he’d received a few messages, his phone flashed a warning at him, pulling him out of his rhythmic movements. 

_ Low Battery _

_ 20% battery remaining _

Robbe let out a sigh, getting up from his chair. Crossing the room to his bed and nightstand, he looked for his charger, which he usually tucked in his top drawer. But it wasn’t there. He glanced around, finding the long black cord on the floor, poking out from beneath his bed. However, when he reached to pull it free, it stopped, refusing to budge. Robbe placed his phone on his bed before getting on his knees and looking beneath the bed. 

The underside of his bed was a mess. Compared to the rest of his bedroom, it was disorganized and messy and unbelievably cluttered. Nothing had its place, shoved beneath the frame to simply get it out of sight. The clutter was overwhelmingly frustrating to him, but it was on his list of projects to do over the summer… the only question was  _ when  _ he would get the time to do such a thing. 

Following the path of the charger, he found it caught beneath a duffel bag. Robbe pulled it out, freeing the charger cord from beneath it, before moving to shove it in his place. But, as he did, his eyes caught sight of a brown leather box that was turned over on its side. His heart did a somersault as he reached out to grab the box, stretching his arm as much as he could to reach it. Once he grasped it in his hand, he pulled it out and shoved the duffel bag back in its place. 

Sitting back on his legs, he turned over the box in his hands. The leather was dusty from the time that it spent beneath the bed frame. Robbe brushed off the dust with the back of his hand, sneezing into his sleeve once it got kicked up into the air. Swallowing, he opened up the box in his hands and the silver watch gleamed up at him in the yellow lighting. The face of the watch was overly large, taking up half of his wrist whenever he wore it, and the strap was a brown leather that stretched and crinkled when he wore it… and it had only been a handful of times. 

Robbe ran his finger over the watch, letting out a sigh. 

It had been Thomas’s gift to him for Christmas and a simple gift for a simple reason. 

The watch that he always wore, which he had worn since his sixteenth birthday, had been a gift from his mother. It had been a gift before one of the most difficult times of Robbe’s life; before his mother admitted herself to the hospital, before Robbe had come out to his friends, his parents, himself. The silver watch had, as a result, become a tether, a reminder for how far he had come. But its battery had died, the strap was scratched, and the clasp was getting worn out, so Thomas had thought of getting him a new one. 

It had been a thoughtful gesture. However, within a few months of getting it, Robbe hardly used it. Whenever they had a date planned, Robbe would rush to pull it from the box to put it on and did so whenever Thomas would come over. Every day he knew that he wouldn’t see Thomas, he always ended up grabbing the watch his mother had given him. Robbe couldn’t explain it, but the old watch was comforting and reminded him that his mother would always be there. 

When they had broken up, Robbe had slid the box with the new watch beneath his bed in frustration, anger, and sadness, never wanting to see it again. But, despite how hard he had thrown it, practically bouncing off the wall when it collided against it, the box had somehow protected it, leaving it still in perfect condition. He bit down on his bottom lip.  _ What should I do with it now? _

Robbe’s phone sang brightly.

_ Oh, right, _ he thought, pushing himself to his feet. 

Once he was up, Robbe quickly placed the leather box on top of his nightstand. Grabbing his phone from his bed, he quickly plugged it in before the battery got any lower and his screen brightened in response. On his home screen, he spotted Yasmina’s name and he opened the message without looking at the preview. 

Yasmina:  _ We just got back to Antwerp. _ _  
_ _ Are we still on for studying tomorrow morning? _

Robbe let out a sigh, running his hand over his face. In all honesty, Robbe had forgotten about his plans to meet Yasmina. There was part of him that wanted to cancel, or at least move it an hour or two, but he knew that he needed all the studying that he could get for their test on Wednesday. He typed out a message, hitting send without hesitation.

Robbe:  _ Yep. I’ll see you then. _ _  
_ _ I’m all yours until 13:00. _ _  
_ _ I promised a stream tomorrow because I missed Friday. _

It didn’t take long for his friend to reply back.

Yasmina:  _ That’s okay.  _ _  
_ _ We can always meet up afterward or later if we need more time. _ _  
_ _ We’re going to ace this test! _

Smiling, Robbe pushed himself to his feet. Quietly, he sneaked out to the kitchen, hoping to find something small to eat before he crashed for the night. 

* * *

**Zondag 13:14**

When Robbe stepped into the flatshare, holding his empty coffee cup with one hand and his keys in the other, he was met with the fresh smell of food. Closing and locking the door, he toed off his shoes, placing them between Milan’s sneakers and Zoë’s sandals. After he put his keys on the small metal shelf by the door, he heard Milan call out, “Robbe, is that you?”

“Yeah. It’s me,” Robbe replied, moving into the flat. He stopped outside of his bedroom and opened the door. He placed his skateboard inside, tossed his backpack on his bed, and headed to the kitchen, where he found Milan bent over the stove. His roommate glanced up from the cookbook as Robbe stepped into the kitchen. Giving him a half-nod, he turned back to the pot, which had a bright red sauce. Robbe tossed his empty cup into the trash. “What are you doing, Milan? Trying to burn the house down?”

Milan turned to him, offended. He held a hand over his heart and Robbe chuckled. “First Lucas doubts me and now  _ you _ ? My baby gays are uprising against me.” Robbe laughed, pushing himself onto the counter. “And, for the record,” Milan added, pointing dramatically with a sauce-covered spoon. “I’m cooking for Jonathon. We’re supposed to be having dinner and a movie.” 

“Oh, so you’re trying to poison him?” 

“Hey!”

“It’s a shame,” Robbe said and chuckled. He snatched a bag of chips from the brown basket on the counter and ripped it open with one hand. “I really liked Jonathon. I’ll start preparing his eulogy. He shall be missed dearly. Died when Milan tried to cook him food and failed miserably. So sad to see another person killed by Milan’s disastrous cooking skills—” 

Milan glared, the corners of his lips pulled up. “Shut up, Robbe, or I just might make you taste it,” his roommate said. “I want to do something nice for Jonathon. However, should I fail, we do have a wide array of take-out menus for him to choose from and I just have to hope that he doesn’t dump me for my immense failure.” Robbe laughed, shaking his head, because Jonathon would never do such a thing. “How was the library with Yasmina? Did you guys have a good time studying?”

Robbe shrugged, sighing. “We did as much as we could. There is only so much we can do when our teacher is incapable of giving a proper review. But there are still a few more days until the test, so there’s time to study more if we need it.” 

“It could be worse,” Milan said. “The test could be tomorrow. At least there’s more than a week for you to study some more. Plus, you and Yasmina are brilliant and you will be amazing.” Robbe nodded. As silence drew over the kitchen, Robbe shoved a handful of chips in his mouth. As he moved to pop a few more in his mouth, Milan sent a cautious glance over his shoulder. “And how was your guy’s night out?” 

“Huh?” Robbe asked. 

“Did you have a good time?”

“I… uhh…,” Robbe trailed off. He bit down on his lip before letting out a sigh. He could hear Milan gently stirring in some ingredients, but he knew that his roommate, his self-appointed guru, was listening. “When we were at the bar that Senne suggested, I was having a really great time. I felt like it was time for me to move on from Thomas, but…” The words got lodged in his throat and Robbe couldn’t get them to spit out. 

“But?” Milan asked.

His friend sent him an encouraging smile but didn’t push him. Robbe let out a shaky breath, biting down hard on his lip and nearly breaking the skin. “But at one point, I… I heard his laugh, then all I could see was him—him and some guy he could have been on a date with. I don’t know, I didn’t ask. I left to get some fresh air, had a small therapy session with a random stranger… a hot random stranger—”

“Oh,” Milan spoke up. A devilish grin spread over his features. “A hot random stranger, you say?” 

“—and Jens said we were leaving and we left the bar for the club and then I found that stupid watch on Saturday,” Robbe continued. He didn’t bother acknowledging Milan’s interruption. Robbe sighed, leaning back against the wall. “To be honest, Milan, I’m just having a hard time with it. With Thomas. With everything. It’s like everywhere I turn, there’s something there that reminds me of him.” He could see Milan nodding, silently urging him to continue. “And Mama tells me that I have to mourn the relationship, but I can’t help the feeling that I… that I wasn’t—” 

The words stuck to his throat again.

He couldn’t say it. 

Thankfully, Milan didn’t need him to say it. The look painted over Milan’s face told Robbe the truth. He knew  _ exactly  _ what Robbe was going to say. His roommate moved the sauce to an unused burner before moving closer to Robbe. Once the small distance was closed, Milan wrapped him into a tight hug. Robbe melted into it. Milan squeezed him tighter for a second before pulling back. 

“You are worth it, Robbe,” Milan said matter-of-factly. His hands slid to Robbe’s shoulders, holding them tightly. “Any guy in Antwerp would be lucky to call you their friend and especially their boyfriend. You care so much about everyone around you. Robbe, the fact you are questioning your worth so drastically in terms of your relationship with Thomas shows that he wasn’t good for you.”

Robbe blinked. “What do you mean?”

Milan paused, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he stared at the ceiling. Then, he said, “Robbe, there are always general anxieties and everyone has doubts about themselves. But the guy you should be looking for is someone who makes you feel worth it, someone who makes you feel loved and cherished and seen, someone who sees those anxieties and tries to soothe them the best that he can. From what I’ve seen, especially before the breakup, Thomas didn’t do that. Sometimes, he didn’t even notice. You deserve someone who notices and helps you.” 

Robbe nodded. “Yeah,” he breathed out. “It’s just hard because he’s…”

“Your first love, your first  _ real _ love,” Milan finished for him. “And it’s completely understandable that you feel that way. You love him and he was a vital part of your life, but you both had to move on. When you find the one, Robbe, the one that you should be with, you won’t have to ask him to stick around or change yourself to keep him.” Shame filled his body like a hot flash, burning beneath the surface of his skin. “He will stick around and he will love every part of you. The good and the bad. That’s the person you should wait for, Robbe.”

Robbe let out a breath. “Do you really think that person exists?” 

“Of course he does,” Milan said, grinning. “He’s out there somewhere in Antwerp, waiting on you to find him—when you’re ready to find him, of course. And, if I can find mine, you can find yours.” Robbe grinned at him as Milan headed back to the stove. “Speaking of which, I need to get back to cooking before he shows up early like he always does and the food isn’t ready. Are you streaming today?” 

“Yeah,” Robbe said. He jumped off the counter and threw away his trash as he left the kitchen. “It should only last two hours. Maybe three. If I need to vacate the apartment after, please give me an hour warning.”

Robbe moved to step into the hallway, but Milan said, “Wait, wait, one more thing, I promise.” When Robbe turned back to his roommate, he had his eyes raised suggestively and a wicked smile crossing over his face. At that moment, he looked so much like Lucas van Der Heijden that Robbe had to blink several times. “Before you go and do all the things related to your stream, how hot was this random stranger outside the bar exactly?”

“Milan!” 

“What? It’s important information, Robbe!” Milan protested. “He might be a good rebound! It’s been so long since we’ve been able to talk about how attractive men are and I miss it!”

Robbe snorted, turning to leave. “I’ve never been the rebound or one-night-stand type, Milan. You know that better than anyone.” Milan nodded. When Robbe was sixteen, Milan had been the first person Robbe had cautiously come out to, admitting to having feelings for another guy in his class. Once Robbe was more comfortable, they had talked about sex and attractive guys and they hadn’t stopped since. “And, even if I was, I wouldn’t know how to find him. I only know his first name and vaguely what he looks like. I wouldn’t be able to find him anyway.”

Milan shrugged. “So, how hot was he?”

“Now that I’m not an emotional, slightly buzzed wreck: hot,” Robbe stated bluntly. Milan laughed, covering his mouth as he stirred the sauce. “Tattoos, sharp jawline, tanned skin.” He mimicked an explosion which caused Milan to laugh more. “Now, if you excuse me, I have a stream to prepare for.”

“Good luck!” 

“Don’t poison Jonathon. I like him!” 

“Robbe!”

* * *

**Maandag 10:52**

Broerrrs + Lucas

08 June, 10:52

Robbe:  _ Hey guys, I have a question. _

Jens:  _ Oh no, it must be a serious question. _ _  
_ _ If you’re texting in class. _

Robbe:  _ Yeah, I guess. _ _  
_ _ It’s just been on my mind lately. _ _  
_ _ And I don’t really know what to do. _ _  
_ _ And the teacher’s talking to the board. _

Aaron:  _ Ah so perfect timing. _

Moyo:  _ What’s up? _

Lucas:  _ How may we be of assistance? _

Jens:  _ Tell us. Jens knows all. _

Robbe:  _ Do you guys remember the watch Thomas gave me? _ _  
_ _ For Christmas? _

Moyo:  _ Yeah _

Aaron:  _ The one you never wore? _

Robbe:  _ Yeah, that’s the one. _ _  
_ _ I found it beneath my bed on Saturday _ _  
_ _ And I’ve been trying to figure out what to do with it _ _  
_ _ And I don’t really know what to do. _

Jens:  _ Burn it.  _ _  
_ _ Drown it in gasoline and make a bonfire out of it. _

Moyo: 😂

Lucas:  _ Do you want it? _

Robbe:  _ No. _ _  
_ _ I’ve barely worn it. _ _  
_ _ Only when Thomas and I were going on dates _ _  
_ _ Or I knew he was coming over. _

Aaron:  _ You can always throw it away. _

Moyo:  _ Or you can sell it. _ _  
_ _ You could get a lot of money on it.  _ _  
_ _ Especially if you haven’t worn it a lot and it’s in good condition.  _

Robbe:  _ Yeah, I don’t know.  _ _  
_ _ It just feels a little wrong to sell it. _

Jens:  _ You can always give it back to him. _

Robbe:  _ But he gave it to me. _

Lucas:  _ Yeah, but you said it yourself, you don’t wear it. _ _  
_ _ Thomas could use it himself or get his money back. _

Moyo:  _ But you don’t have to. _ _  
_ _ You could always give it away. _

Jens:  _ Yeah, there are lots of things you could do. _ _  
_ _ If you want to give it back to Thomas, that’s okay too. _

Lucas:  _ But you should only do that if it’s what you want to do. _ _  
_ _ And you feel up to it. _ _  
_ _ No reason to push yourself over a watch _

Aaron:  _ You could always mail it! _

Moyo:  _ That is also true.  _

Robbe:  _ Yeah. _ _  
_ _ Thanks, guys. _

Jens:  _ So what are you going to do? _

Robbe:  _ I’m going to give it back to him. _ _  
_ _ If he doesn’t want it, I’ll pawn it. _ _  
_ _ Or give it away. _

Lucas:  _ Sounds good _ 👍🏻

* * *

**Dinsdag 12:39**

In the time they dated, Robbe had only been to Thomas’s law firm a handful of times. When they were dating, the two of them tried to have lunch at least once a week. Sometimes, Robbe would make it to the lobby of the firm, where Thomas would meet him. Other times, Thomas would meet him before he got to the elevators and drag him away. One time, Robbe was pulled into a conversation by the elevators with Thomas’s coworker, who teased Thomas for having such a “young” boyfriend. 

For all the times he visited, today was the first day that Robbe actually waited in the lobby. 

The lobby looked like a snapshot from the cover of a magazine. From the vibrant flowers on the reception desk to the pristine paintings, everything was meticulously put in its place. There wasn’t a speck of dust, a stain on the white couches, or a condensation ring on the wooden tables. As Robbe’s wait prolonged, the image grew increasingly unsettling because it was too perfect. Or maybe it was because he felt underdressed in his jeans, t-shirt, and a gray light jacket, clutching the box in his hands. 

Every once in a while, someone would pass through the lobby, either dressed in a three-piece suit or an elegant dress. When they saw Robbe sitting on the couch, his skateboard resting across his lap, they would pause, do a double-take, and he would barely manage a smile, feeling his embarrassment increase tenfold the longer he sat on this couch. With each passing minute, as the silence drew on, Robbe was more and more convinced that he should’ve just mailed Thomas the watch and called it a day. He had a test to study for. He didn’t have time for this. 

The sound of his name pulled him from his thoughts.

Robbe glanced at the reception desk, where Julia, the receptionist, was sitting. The woman waved him over, holding the phone against her right ear. Robbe rose to his feet quickly, clutching the box in one hand and his skateboard in the other. Once he got closer, she covered the bottom of the phone and said, “Mr. Martens is in a critical meeting right now. He has asked me to see if him talking to you is an urgent matter.” 

To Robbe, it sounded Thomas’s stressed combination of ‘I’m busy’ and ‘Fuck off.’ However, he didn’t dare say that to Julia, who was just the messenger. 

“No,” Robbe replied, shaking his head. Before he continued, he tried to push away the voice in his head that was saying Robbe was not important enough. Rationally, he knew that Thomas had an important trial coming up and that he needed to be as prepared as he could. “It’s not an urgent matter. I just wanted to drop something off.” 

Uncovering the phone’s microphone, Julia quickly relayed the message word-for-word to the person on the other end. Even with the light music playing from the speakers, Robbe could still make out the chatter on the phone. If it was Thomas’s voice, he sounded angry, but it was still just chatter and Robbe couldn’t pick it out for sure. “Yes, sir, I will,” Julia said politely. “I apologize for interrupting. Yes.” Then Julia hung up the phone and beamed at him.

“If I got you in trouble, I’m sorry,” Robbe whispered. 

“Oh, it’s completely okay.” It wasn’t. Robbe could see Julia’s anger brimming on the surface, but he wasn’t sure if it was directed toward him or the person on the phone. She quickly set about, finding a pad of lined sticky notes and a marker. She placed both objects in front of him before turning back. “Mr. Martens is a busy man and he’s been under a lot of pressure as of late.” When Robbe held up the objects, Julia added, “He said there might be a chance you wanted to leave a note.”

“Ah, okay.”

“You don’t have to,” Julia said as Robbe placed the box on the desk. 

“No, it’s okay,” Robbe replied. He grabbed the marker and wrote out his message on the sticky note. Once he finished, he returned the office supplies to Julia and grabbed the tape so his note would stay on there. Then, he handed the box over to Julia, who stared down at the words on the sticky note, bold and black:  _ Yours. _ She nodded her head and Robbe grinned at her. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“You’re welcome,” Julia replied, pushing herself to her feet. She held the box in one hand as she maneuvered herself out from behind the desk while being trapped by a pencil skirt. “I will put this on his desk right now. Have a wonderful day, Robbe.” Her heels clicked against the wooden floor as she headed off to Thomas’s office. 

Once Julia had vanished from view, Robbe moved out of the lobby and into the hallway. As he waited for the elevator, clutching his skateboard in one hand, he let out a shaky breath. His lips tugged up at the corners as Robbe shifted his weight from one foot to the other. As he stepped into the elevator, pressing the button to the lobby, he let out a sigh of relief, leaning against the wood on the walls. 

Finally, he thought as the elevator descended. He felt like he could breathe again. 

* * *

**Dinsdag 12:46**

Thomas

Thomas:  _ Why did you return your watch? _

Robbe:  _ Like my note said, it’s yours. _

Thomas:  _ It was a gift, Robbe. _ _  
_ _ It’s yours. _

Robbe:  _ I’m not using it. _ _  
_ _ So I gave it back. _

Thomas:  _ You need a watch that works, Robbe. _

Robbe:  _ My watch works just fine. _ _  
_ _ The battery is dead.  _ _  
_ _ The clasp is worn. _ _  
_ _ That doesn’t make it unusable. _ _  
_ _ Sell it. I’m not going to use it. _

* * *

**Woensdag 18:49**

The address that Zoë had texted them (that he fired off to the Broerrrs) was not far from the flatshare. At best, it was a three-minute walk. It was a hole-in-the-wall bar, like the one that Senne recommended to Jens for their “guys’ night.” Through the large glass windows along the wall, he could see all five of the girls near the back of the bar. They were sitting at two tables shoved together with a mess of chairs scattered around them.

Robbe knew that he would be the first of his friends to arrive at the bar. Moyo had rushed home to check on his mom, Aaron was swinging his mom’s house to check on his younger brother, and Jens was swinging by the coffee shop to pick up Lucas, who had been scheduled to work until 18:30. Robbe had only stopped by the flatshare to drop off his backpack, making sure to grab his wallet from the depths of his backpack, before he headed out. 

When the bell signaled his appearance, every person in the bar naturally turned to see who it was. The bartender fired off a greeting and asked about his drink. Robbe was barely able to hold up his pinky before Jana came crashing into him. She threw her arms around him as Robbe tried his best not to lose his balance. She laughed before pulling back and grinning. “I’ve missed you so much!” 

“I’ve missed you too,” Robbe said. 

And he genuinely meant it. 

While he had been the one to fuck up by spilling the secret that she confided in Robbe, he had missed their friendship. When they met in groups, it was a little easier. But Robbe had been genuinely upset about hearing that she was moving to America. At her going-away party, Robbe had hugged her tightly and told her he wanted to make sure they kept in touch. He knew that he would never truly make up for his actions, but he wanted to try and be a better friend for her. 

“Here you go,” the bartender said, sliding a beer across the counter. Once Robbe paid, Jana practically dragged him over to the table, her ponytail bouncing behind her. Zoë had patted the chair to her left and Robbe sat down. Jana took her seat between Zoë and Yasmina. Though the two had seen each other earlier that day, Yasmina waved at him and Robbe grinned in response. 

Within seconds, Jana was slipping back into a conversation with Luca about her boyfriend. Robbe felt bad for accidentally interrupting their conversation with his arrival. Glancing around the table, Zoë leaned over to furtively get his attention. Though Yasmina seemed to notice, the other girls didn’t. Confused, Robbe turned in her direction and Zoë whispered, “There is a chance of Senne dropping by later. Do your best to act surprised, okay?”

“You haven’t told the girls about you and Senne?” Robbe whispered. 

“You only know because Milan caught him making coffee one morning and Milan is physically incapable of keeping his mouth shut,” Zoë reminded him. Robbe nodded. That afternoon, Milan had practically knocked down his bedroom door in his eagerness to tell Robbe the scoop, with the embarrassed Zoë on his heels. Robbe had been worried that he would have to help Zoë dispose of a body that day. “I’m not sure, but Amber might know because her brother is Senne’s best friend. So, please?”

Robbe nodded. Zoë sent him a thankful glance as Robbe took a sip of his beer. 

“Hey, Robbe,” Luca spoke up. She was seated beside Amber, who kept glancing toward the door with an increased frequency. “Where are the other Broerrrs? Are they running late?” 

Despite not being the target of the conversation, Amber turned to Luca. “Aaron had to run to check on his brother because his mom is working late at the hospital.” She paused, turning to Robbe. “I’m not sure about Moyo and Jens though.” 

“Moyo had to run home to check on his mom so he’s going to be late,” Robbe said. He glanced down at his watch to check the time. “And I’m not sure about Jens because they should’ve left the coffee shop twenty minutes ago and it’s only five minutes away from here.”

Zoë turned to him, a thoughtful look on her face. “Maybe they stopped by the flatshare? I don’t imagine that he would want to come in his uniform.” 

“Or they probably stopped to make out,” Luca said, smirking. Beside her, Amber snickered and Yasmina rolled her eyes. Zoë bit down on her lip, trying to hide her own knowing smile, and Robbe nodded. It surely sounded like Jens and Lucas. They had a tendency to get all wrapped up in each other and not look at the time. “You might want to send them a text to make sure that they’re still coming,” Luca said, snickering.

Beside her, Amber shifted out of her seat as the bell chimed when the door opened. Robbe glanced over his shoulder to see Aaron moving to meet Amber in a kiss as Moyo headed to the bar to order two beers. Jana half-turned to hug Moyo and Aaron when they approached. “You know what, I think I will,” Robbe muttered. He pulled out his phone and sent out a text to Jens. It took several moments before he got a response.

Jens:  _ On our way. _

Looking over his shoulder, Zoë chuckled. “That’s  _ exactly  _ what they were doing.” Moyo took a seat next to Robbe, clapping him on the shoulder. Aaron sat on the other side of the table between Amber and Yasmina, who smiled at him for a greeting. 

“Who stopped to make out?” Jana questioned, curious. The girl was half-turned to Zoë in her chair. Her blue eyes darted between Robbe and Zoë, who simply glanced at each other. Glancing around the table before returning their gaze to them, Jana asked, “Does Jens have a girlfriend?” 

Robbe smirked. “Not quite.” 

Jana blinked in confusion. Twice. Three times. Then, she grinned, looking like she had just stumbled upon gossip gold. “Wait, Jens has a new  _ boyfriend _ ?” The looks on their faces must’ve been answer enough because her grin got bigger. “That’s amazing! Since when?”

“About two months now,” Moyo said. He glanced at Robbe, who nodded his head to let him know that he was correct.

“Who is it?” she asked. She turned to Zoë, who glanced up. “Do I know who it is?”

“It’s Milan’s cousin,” Amber said.

“Milan’s cousin?” Jana questioned. She raised an eyebrow, reaching for her phone. “I didn’t even know he had a cousin, but it’s been so long since I’ve been on Instagram. Studying for finals while packing was absolute  _ hell _ .”

The bell rang, signaling the door opening. Jens stepped into the bar with Lucas right behind him. Both of them had swollen lips and looked like they had just run from the flatshare. Lucas had switched his coffee shop uniform for a pair of shorts and a button-up floral shirt. Jens was still wearing his outfit from earlier but his shirt was wrinkled. Seeing the group staring at them, Jens grinned at them as Lucas ordered two beers. “We made it. Sorry. This one couldn’t keep his hands off me.”

Though Jens wasn’t looking at him, Lucas sent him a look that clearly stated, ‘Yeah, right.’

Jana hopped off her seat and moved to hug Jens. Even though they were almost the same height, Jana stood on her toes to fully hug him. Her ex-boyfriend returned the hug with one arm. Once they separated, he grinned at her. “How’s America been treating you?”

“Good,” Jana said. 

Lucas stepped forward with two glasses of beer in his hands. Without the use of his hands, Lucas gave him a gentle kick and Jens automatically turned toward him. He took the glass of beer without pausing and turned back to Jana, who was grinning at the two of them. “Jana, this is Lucas, my boyfriend. Lucas, this is Jana, my—”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Lucas filled in, grinning. He held out his hand to Jana, who took it gingerly and shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, finally. I’ve heard a lot about you from Zoë and Jens. Mostly from Zoë because we live together and your visit is all she’s been talking about for weeks.” 

“And you’re the boyfriend,” Jana mirrored. “It’s so nice to meet you as well. I’m a little caught off-guard because Jens and I haven’t talked in months. But I need to ask you a serious question.” There was a brief nervous look that flashed across Lucas’s face before he nodded. Jana looked towards Jens before leaning closer. As Lucas leaned closer, Jens glanced between the two of them confused. Then with a straight and serious face, Jana asked, “Does he still drool when he sleeps?” 

Jens blinked. “What? I’ve never d—”

“Yes,” Lucas interrupted, nodding frantically. 

Jens let out a groan, running a hand down his face, as the entire group burst into laughter. 

* * *

**Woensdag 19:53**

“No!” Jana exclaimed, covering her mouth. The rest of the group watched as her eyes darted between Robbe and Zoë, who had her chin resting against her palm. “You’re kidding! Someone actually thought that you guys were dating?” 

“Yeah,” Zoë said, nodding her head. Jana laughed. “We were just walking around the supermarket, trying to get stuff for dinner that night, and this older woman walks up to us. She was as sweet as she could be and really well-meaning. But she started going off about how cute we were together and how we would have beautiful children with bright brown hair—because this was a few months ago, when I had grown my hair out because it was completely fried.” 

Jana nodded in understanding and Robbe snickered. 

“But have you seen the two of you?” Luca spoke up, laughing. “You  _ would _ . If you two were each other’s type and were into each other.”

Zoë rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Anyway, she wouldn’t let either one of us get a word in on this conversation to correct her. It lasted nearly ten minutes and we were just standing there, waiting for this conversation to end. And she finally stops talking and she’s looking so proud of herself, right, but, then…” She paused dramatically, pretending to think, before she turned to Robbe, a sly smile tugging on her ruby red lips. “What exactly did you say to her, Robbe?” 

Robbe sighed loudly as he leaned back in his chair. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Yes,” Jana said. 

Zoë nodded, scrunching up her nose. 

“What did you say?” Luca asked, her eyes wide.

Three seats over with an arm wrapped around Lucas, Jens raised an eyebrow and smirked over at him. “We’re waiting for you, bro.”

Robbe let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair. His friends were staring at him, waiting for him to speak. Zoë was already descending into borderline manic laughter before he even said a word. “After a few seconds of staring at her, I said, ‘My boyfriend wouldn’t be happy.’” As soon as the words left his mouth, his friends were overcome with laughter and it boomed over the entire bar. Robbe pursed his lips to try and keep his smile down, but he lost control of it quickly. “She was  _ mortified _ .”

Zoë laughed in agreement, leaning against Robbe’s shoulder. 

“As she should,” Lucas remarked, wiping tears from his eyes. Beside him, Jens was trying to control his laughter. “That’s what she gets for assuming.”

The bell rang, signaling that someone else had entered the bar. “Are we interrupting something?” Senne de Smet moved in their direction, smiling nervously at all of them. There were looks of confusion on all of their friends’ faces, with the sole exception of Lucas, who looked impassive, while Robbe tried his best to act shocked. The former playboy was wearing a black hoodie with a pair of denim jeans and a t-shirt. He made a beeline for Zoë, who reached out for his hand. 

Before Senne had even taken her hand, Amber stood up on what Robbe presumed to be the footrests of her seat and practically shouted, “I knew it! You guys are back together.” Senne laughed, wrapping his arm around Zoë and patting Robbe’s back. While still resting her head against Robbe’s shoulder, Zoë wrapped her arm around Senne and pulled him closer against her side. “Why didn’t you tell me? You knew I was right!” 

“Did I?” a deep voice asked from behind Senne. The voice tugged at something familiar in the back of Robbe’s brain. He tried to search it, pin down the detail of where he had heard it before, but he was coming up empty. As soon as he felt like he had a clear vision, it disappeared between his fingers like smoke, fading into the air. Zoë glanced at him, her eyebrows narrowing in confusion. Robbe could see the question forming in her eyes, but before she could ask, someone moved around the table, draping one arm over the back of Amber’s chair. “Senne doesn’t bore me with every little detail of his love life. Just like I don’t bore him with every detail of mine.”

Amber rolled her eyes. “Somehow, I highly doubt that.” 

Robbe felt his eyes go wide and he swallowed the gasp that threatened to escape out of his mouth. 

It was him.

The guy from outside the bar. 

Sander.

In the bright lights of the bar—and a little bit more sober than on Friday—the man looked different than he did in the alleyway. For starters, Robbe could see him a lot more clearly in the brightly-lit bar. Robbe could see the scar beside his right eye and the beauty mark on his cheek. His jawline was sharper than he thought, capable of cutting glass and steel, and his full lips turned up in a smile. He stripped off his jacket and Robbe saw it all in slow-motion; the reveal of his gray graphic t-shirt, the sunflower, the dragonflies, the forest, the silver ring on his right hand. He ran a hand through his bleached hair, exposing the brown roots against his scalp, and tossed the jacket on the back of Amber’s chair. 

_ Shit _ , Robbe thought. The guy, Sander, was even hotter than Robbe remembered. 

From two seats over, Lucas turned to him and raised a knowing eyebrow. Robbe tried to subtly flip him off. 

“Why is that so hard to believe?” Sander asked. 

“Because,” Amber remarked. “The two of you have practically never left each other’s side since Luka moved to Brussels! I find it very hard to believe that you wouldn’t know. Especially with your innate ability to ‘know all.’”

“Well, we have left each other’s side, thank you very much,” Sander pointed out, gesturing in the direction of Senne without looking. Robbe wondered, briefly, if he would remember him from outside the bar. There was a part of Robbe that hoped he didn’t, because he would get a second chance at making a good first impression. Plus, Robbe wasn’t generally a memorable person. “Besides,” Sander said. In one quick moment, he leaned over and took a sip of the drink in her hand before moving on like it never even happened. “It wasn’t my secret to tell, because I’m sure they had their reasons.”

Amber rolled her eyes. When he tried to reach out for another sip, she turned and pushed him away with her free hand. Sander pouted (cutely) and Senne let out a booming laugh. The focus at the table quickly shifted to Zoë and Senne. Robbe felt like he could barely hear the imposing questions that the group was throwing at the couple because he was watching Sander, who was glancing at each of them in turn. 

Then, his eyes landed on him, emerald green connecting with brown, and Robbe felt as though an electric current shot through him at maximum intensity. There was a look of recognition that flashed through Sander’s eyes and his lips turned up into a greeting grin. His mouth fell open, like he was about to speak out loud, speak to Robbe, and he could feel his stomach flipping around and—

“Robbe?”

For a second, he didn’t register the lighter voice and he thought it was Thomas, because he was the only person that would be looking for him. But the wave of panic was only temporary, quelling when he spotted the short black bob cut and the septum piercing over Senne’s shoulder. Once he spotted that, he felt his body relax immensely as Zoë turned to glance at him. “Noor?” he said. 

The girl grinned at him, deep red lipstick and all. 

Once Zoë had moved her head, Robbe climbed out of his seat and moved towards the girl. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a featherlight kiss against his cheek, and Robbe dutifully mirrored the action against her own cheek. Behind him, the chattering returned to normal and Robbe stepped back from his friend. Noor beamed up at him. “How are you doing? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”

“Yeah,” Robbe said. “About four months now, right?”

“Yeah, last time I think we talked was a week or two after dinner.”

Once or twice a year, the handful of Antwerp streamers liked to get together and have a homemade dinner at one of their places. From the major streamers with thousands of daily viewers, to smaller ones like Noor, across all games and genres, everyone was invited. They even had their own Discord server. At the last dinner, the two of them had hit it off rather quickly. They had talked all evening about Noor’s girlfriend and her artwork, Robbe’s trouble with Thomas, and day-to-day streamer stuff. After the party, Robbe had kept in contact with her, but the break up forced him into a mindset of living day-by-day and they hadn’t talked a lot since. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Robbe started, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry about not responding to you. I was going through a—”

“Hey,” Noor interrupted gently. Robbe stopped as the black-haired girl beamed up at him. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink and we can catch up on the last few months.”

“Are you sure? I can buy your drink.”

“Nonsense, Robbe,” Noor said. She grabbed him roughly by the arm and pulled him in the direction of the bar. Glancing behind him, he saw that Senne had taken Robbe’s seat and Zoë leaned against his side. The rest of them had fallen into easy conversation. “I am perfectly capable of buying your drink. If it makes you feel any better, you can buy my next one.”

It sounded like a fair trade. “That sounds good to me,” Robbe replied. As soon as Noor let his arm go and the bartender leaned over to take her order, Robbe found his eyes wandering back over to the table. He stared at the group, not really absorbing what he was seeing until his eyes flitted over to Sander, who stood in the space between Amber and Aaron, holding a single glass of beer that Robbe hadn’t seen before. He stared at him for a beat as Sander conversed with his friends. 

Then, his green eyes darted back to Robbe and the electric shock returned, coursing through his entire body.

“So,” Robbe said, abruptly. He turned his gaze back to Noor, who counted out money for the bartender. She glanced up at his voice and pushed the beer glass to him by the coaster. “How has your life been the past five months?”

* * *

**Woensdag 20:58**

To add three new chairs to their table, they had to shift the tables around to make room. What transpired was a lot of laughter and giggles as people bumped elbows and knees to scoot around. Sander had originally tried to squeeze his seat between Amber and Aaron, but the blonde pushed him out of the way. As a result, he ended up sitting on Amber’s other side, between her and Luca. Every once in a while, Robbe’s eyes would automatically search the table and land on Sander. Most times, the bleach-blond didn’t notice. Sometimes, he did—green connecting with brown—and Robbe would promptly look away. 

In the impromptu shifting of the tables, Jana’s glass had nearly toppled over, losing half of its contents in the process. They all laughed as Jens, ever the bartender, rushed to get a wet towel before the beer dried or left a stain and hit his head on the table as he stood back up. When he returned to Lucas’s side, the older boy placed a kiss on the bump and Jens grinned at him before proceeding to snatch his phone and keep it out of his reach.

“Jens,” Lucas practically shouted, even though the corners of his lips were turned up into a smile. He tried to stand up on the footrests to get his phone, but Jens moved it out of his reach. “What the fuck? Give me my phone back.”

“I told you that your mom is doing fine,” Jens said, trying to sound stern and, ultimately, failing as the corners of his own lips pulled up. Across the table, Sander sat up, leaning toward Amber. Without meaning to, Robbe watched him as he whispered something in her ear before getting up from the table. His eyes followed him until he disappeared out the front door, the bell signaling his departure. When Robbe blinked back to reality, he was thankful to find none of his friends looking at him strangely. “She and your uncle are having a great time and she’s okay.” 

“Jens—” 

“She’s okay,” Jens replied, smiling down at him. “I promise. You’ve just got to let her relax.” 

There was a nagging feeling at the back of Robbe’s head and his eyes wandered back over to the front door. It had only been a few seconds since he had left, but Robbe couldn’t help searching for Sander. Even though Robbe knew he was completely out of sight. Robbe had wanted to properly introduce himself, to show that he wasn’t always upset because of his ex, to thank him for checking on him when he left the bar in complete duress. 

But Robbe didn’t want to come across as annoying. If Sander wanted to speak with him, he would have. It had been over an hour since Senne had arrived with his two roommates and Sander hadn’t moved from Amber’s side. Yet, he engaged in group conversations with Amber and Luca, teased Senne from across the table, and tried to act aloof with Aaron, who seemed eager to please him for some reason. Thomas used to tell him that he could sometimes try too hard—and that was the last thing that he wanted to do. 

Robbe swallowed. 

When Robbe tried to turn back to Noor, he felt something tugging at the back of his brain, urging him to jump to his feet and head outside the bar. Swallowing the anxious bubble that was forming in his throat, Robbe slid out of his chair and got to his feet. At his movement, Zoë looked up at him with curiosity. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Robbe replied. The excuse flew to his tongue without hesitation. “I just wanted to check in with my mom. She’s been quiet most of the day.” 

Zoë nodded. 

Robbe moved across the bar, heading in the direction of the door. Behind him, he could vaguely hear his friends asking and Zoë repeating his excuse without blinking. As he made it to the door, he pulled out his phone and found his messages with his mom. Stepping out into the mild summer night, he typed out a message to her and sent it quickly.

Robbe:  _ How has your day been? _ _  
_ _ You’ve been quiet.  _ _  
_ _ Was it a busy day at work? _

As he stepped out beneath the canopy above the door, he let out a breath. It was nearing 21:00, which is generally when his mother took her medications. Almost all of her nightly pills had a side-effect of making her sleepy and they all worked fast. Combine that with her love of getting absorbed in a television show before bed and Robbe wasn’t expecting to hear from her until the next morning. 

Glancing up from his phone, he found Sander quite easily. 

It wasn’t like it was hard. 

Outside of the bar, the street was only partially lit with sconces attached to the brick wall. There were the lights on the street, but they hardly did anything to brighten the sidewalk. It was naturally dark. But Sander’s bright, nearly-white hair stood out among the dark street and the shadows. He was standing on the edge of the sidewalk, facing the street, with a cigarette between his fingertips. 

For a moment, Robbe stared at him, wondering what he should say. There was a part of him that wanted to run back into the bar and pretend like he had never left. But there was another part of him that wanted to step forward and thank him for talking to him on Friday—and, maybe, just maybe, talk to him some more. And it was this part that ultimately won the match in his chest, causing him to take a step forward to Sander. “Hey.” 

Sander glanced up, still holding the cigarette in his fingertips. At the sight of Robbe, standing there with his hands in his pockets, Sander grinned. “Hey.” There was a brief pause before Sander held out the cigarette to him. “Want a drag?”

On Friday, Robbe had said no. 

Now, he took a bold step forward and lifted the cigarette from Sander’s fingers. Sander’s hand dropped to his side as Robbe placed the cigarette against his lips, inhaling a long puff of smoke. A smirk quickly overtook Sander’s smile as green connected with brown again. Robbe exhaled and handed the cigarette back, their fingers briefly touching “I never thanked you.”

“For?” Sander asked.

“For Friday.”

“Oh,” Sander said. “But you did. Thank me, I mean. Right before you left.”

Shit, he was right. “Well, I don’t feel like I properly thanked you, because I was buzzed and upset and ready to leave.” There was a look on Sander’s face that Robbe couldn’t identify. But it made his stomach flip. Not like the anxiety-filled flipping that Thomas evoked. Something else. Something different. “And now I’m still buzzed, but I’m not upset or eager to leave. So, thank you.”

Sander smiled at him. “You’re welcome.”

Sander took another drag of the cigarette and turned his eyes back to the street in front of him. The silence washed over them in waves. There was a hint of awkwardness coursing through the air and Robbe wondered if it was just him who felt it. Then Sander glanced at him and caught him looking. But Robbe didn’t look away this time. “So,” Sander said. He held out the cigarette to Robbe, who took it. “How do you know Zoë?” 

“We live together,” Robbe replied. He placed the cigarette against his lips and took another drag. As the smoke filled his lungs, there was a look on Sander’s face, like he wanted to know more, like he wanted to know everything that Robbe would give him. He exhaled the smoke into the air, idly twisting the cigarette in his fingertips. “We went to high school together. I lived with her and Milan when I was sixteen for a bit, and then permanently when I was nineteen.” Sander nodded, looking like he was about to say something else, when Robbe added, “How do you know Amber?”

Sander’s eyes went wide, like he hadn’t expected Robbe to notice, and he smirked over at Robbe. “She’s my little sister,” he said. Sander took the cigarette from Robbe’s fingers. Their fingers brushed, sending a surge of warmth through his body, before it was gone, like it was never there. “Well, step-siblings technically. My father started dating her mother in middle school. We used to hate each other back then. Now, we’re practically blood.”

“Ah,” Robbe hummed, grinning. 

“What?” Sander asked. 

“Nothing,” Robbe said. “That’s just why you’re giving Aaron so much shit, huh? Because you’re being the protective older brother?”

Sander shrugged, exhaling the smoke in one breath, angled slightly upward so it would miss Robbe’s face. It jetted out of his mouth, briefly making him look like a dragon. “What can I say? I’ve always been quite protective of her, especially when there’s a new boy in her life,” he said. “You know, you should go back to the bar.” 

“Huh?”

“The bar. From Friday,” he added. Sander crossed his arms and leaned against the back of the tree. “Your ex being there kind of left a bad memory, you know? And you might never want to go back. But you can always go and make a new memory there, right?” 

“Yeah,” Robbe replied, nodding. “Yeah, I guess I could.” 

Suddenly, the door to the bar behind them swung open. In a bizarre sense of  déjà vu, the two of them turned to see who it was. Zoë was standing in the doorway, a concerned look on her face as she stared at Robbe with a raised eyebrow. He was about to speak when Zoë asked, “Is everything okay with Mama?”

Oh. Right.

“Um, I sent her a text but…” Robbe started, feeling the warmth flooding to his cheeks. If there was anything telling on his face, Zoë didn’t mention it. He pulled out his phone and, sure enough, there was no text message from his mama. “It’s likely that she’s gone to bed and didn’t check her phone. Sorry, I would’ve come back in sooner but Sander and I started talking.” 

“It’s okay,” Zoë replied. Her eyes briefly darted from Robbe to Sander then back to him. “I just got worried and wanted to check to make sure that everything was okay.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Robbe said, trying to tamper down the blush on his cheeks. Zoë headed back inside, the door slamming shut behind her. Robbe bit down on his lip, turning to Sander. The man was still leaning against the tree, shrouded in shadows, but there was a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. Somehow, the smirk made the blush on his cheeks intensify and Robbe headed inside. Behind him, he could hear Sander stomping out the cigarette before he followed him.

* * *

**Donderdag 12:16**

While he waited patiently against the wall, Robbe decided that this coffee shop wasn’t bad. 

Ever since Robbe ran into Thomas at his go-to coffee shop (which was actually their usual coffee shop), he had been searching for a new one. It was a futile task because Robbe always felt like the coffee shops weren’t for him. One was too close to Thomas’s apartment. Another was too dark and dreary. A third had coffee that Robbe could barely swallow. Thankfully, there was a coffee shop on campus, tucked in the first floor of the library. It was always busy, filling the orders of tired and overworked college students. But he never ran into Thomas and that was a good trade off.

Today, the on-campus coffee shop was closed. 

There was a sign posted on the wall outside. According to the sign, there had been an unexpected water-main break that nearly flooded the store. Robbe had seen the sign earlier this morning, but he hadn’t been able to find a new shop to get his caffeine fix before his class. As a result, he had barely made it through his morning lecture and he definitely needed coffee if he was going to survive his afternoon class. 

That was how he ended up here. 

This coffee shop was only a short walk away from campus, tucked between a flower shop and a restaurant. It was bright and open, with large windows and a lot of seating. The only downside to the shop was its location. If Robbe wanted to stop by on his way to class, he would have to go all the way around campus. But in the moments where he was on campus and in need of new scenery, this coffee shop could be a place where he could get some studying done, away from the normal distractions of the library. 

Leaning against the wall, Robbe pulled his phone from his pocket. He found his mother’s messages about dinner tonight, messages from Jens and Lucas in the group chat, and a handful of other notifications that he cleared out. As someone else’s name was called (Robbe didn’t know whose, only that it wasn’t his), he heard footsteps walking up to him. Then, a deep, familiar voice said, “You know, I’m starting to become concerned that you’re stalking me.”

Before he had even glanced up from his phone, he knew that Sander was the one standing next to him. 

The bleach-blond was standing less than a foot away from him with his tattoos on display. There was a playful smile on his face as he looked down at Robbe with a coffee cup in his hand. Today, he was dressed in a pair of denim blue jeans and black graphic t-shirt. There was a green strap across his chest from the duffel bag on his back. His platinum blond hair was messy, like he had just run his hand through it a dozen times, but somehow it blended with the rest of his look. As Sander turned to face him fully, Robbe thought he saw a flash of red imprinted on the skin behind his ear, but it disappeared before he got a good look at it. 

Robbe blinked back into reality, realizing that Sander was waiting on him to respond, and a smile wormed its way to his face without him being aware of it. “I’m a busy college student with exams coming up, Sander. I don’t really have the time to stalk you.”

It was true. A lot of Robbe’s time had already been allotted to projects and homework assignments. Whatever time was left over was generally spent streaming or hanging out with his friends. And Robbe didn’t stalk him. Technically. Once he had laid down in his bed last night, he might’ve found some photos of him on Senne’s Insta. 

Sander placed a hand over his heart, pretending to stumble against the wall. “Ouch, Robbe, I’m wounded.” 

“I’m sorry,” Robbe said, laughing. He glanced toward the counter, counted the number of people that had been in front of him, before he turned to Sander. “It’s kind of hard to stalk you when I don’t even know your Instagram or your last name.” 

“That’s quitter talk, Robbe,” Sander said, chuckling. “It’s the 21st century. I’m sure it wouldn’t be that hard to find me considering the fact that we seem to have a handful of mutual friends.” Robbe nodded. He had thought of that. He had found the photos on Senne’s Insta—the one where the two of them were at the beach soaked had been quite amusing—but Senne didn’t know how to tag. Or, at least, he didn’t know how to tag Sander in it. 

(And there weren’t any comments on the post because yes, he checked.) 

“And it’s Driesen. By the way,” Sander added, pulling him from his thoughts. “Yours?” 

“IJzermans.” 

“Ah,” Sander said, grinning down at Robbe. As Robbe leaned against the wall, his stomach flipped a little. “Well, as much as I would love to keep up this absolutely thrilling conversation about virtual stalking techniques in the 21st century, I unfortunately have to get back to my job before my boss decides to freak out on me.” 

As Sander pushed off the wall and took a sip of the coffee in his hand, Robbe asked, curious, “What do you do?”

“I’m a tattoo artist,” Sander said, grinning proudly. His smile was infectious and Robbe found himself mirroring it. “It’s just a small parlor not far from here. I got my first tattoo there, then I had an apprenticeship, and now I’m a full-fledged artist. Though I bet going to college for art probably helped my chances a lot.” 

“So, did you do your tattoos yourself?” Robbe asked, pointing at the sleeve. 

“No,” Sander said, breathing out. He extended his right arm to show off the tattoos and Robbe found his eyes falling on the sunflower on his bicep. “I wish I could’ve done it! But, unfortunately, I’m right-handed and I wanted them on this arm. Plus, even if they were on my left arm, I would’ve had to use a mirror to get the one on my shoulder and I would’ve fucked it up.”

“What’s on your shoulder?” Robbe asked. 

Sander grinned at him. “Maybe you can find that out next time,” the blond said. Sander pulled his duffel bag forward with a smirk on his face. After a few seconds of searching the pockets, he managed to find what he was looking for and handed it to Robbe. It was a small business card with a black decorative swirl printed on and the name  _ Emilie’s Tattoo Parlor _ right beside it. In the bottom corner was Sander’s name, was with his Instagram account written beneath it.

Robbe flipped over the card, half-expecting to find something on the back, but it was blank. 

“Have a good day, Robbe,” Sander said, moving past him in the direction of the front door. 

“You too,” Robbe managed to respond. Once Sander had disappeared from the coffee shop completely, Robbe stuck the business card in his pocket for later. As soon as the business card was safely tucked away in his pocket, the barista called his name loudly across the coffee shop. Robbe hurried to his order, grabbing it swiftly, and headed out of the coffee shop, ready to get back to campus. 

After Robbe arrived home from his mom’s house, he pulled the business card out of his pocket. He had left his mama’s house a little later than normal and he got stopped by Milan on his way into his bedroom. Plus, he had an early morning class that he  _ needed  _ to be on time for. But, still, he found himself typing in  _ earthlingoddity  _ into the search bar. 

Overall, Sander’s profile seemed to have a little bit of everything. Yet, somehow, all the photos meshed together in an aesthetically pleasing way. Nearly all of them were black and white, shot at angles that Robbe couldn’t think of replicating, and didn’t seem like something that someone would put on an Instagram account. There were photos of Senne, Noor, and Amber, of tattoos that he had done, and random graffiti art. Robbe even found a photo of a bouquet of sunflowers and a photo of the trees that encircled Sander’s wrist. 

Before he fell asleep, Robbe found himself hesitating, his thumb hovering over the ‘follow’ button on  _ earthlingoddity _ ’s profile. But, swallowing his nerves, he hit the follow button and turned over in bed, quickly falling asleep.

* * *

**Vrijdag 08:23**

He was late.

He was very, very late. 

When his alarm had gone off this morning, beeping loudly in his ear, it had been all too easy to reach over and press ‘snooze.’ One time had turned into a second, which had turned into three. When Robbe had finally woken up and seen  _ 8:15 _ in bright red numbers on his alarm clock, he had flown out of bed so fast that he nearly tripped over his bedsheets. He didn’t care that he was still wearing the shirt that he slept in or that he hadn’t been able to take a shower.

The only thing he cared about was making it to school on time. 

Especially with their exams so close. 

If he didn’t, his professor would give him a thirty-minute lecture on how Robbe didn’t care about his own studies. 

He switched his pajama pants out for a pair of jeans, tightened his belt around his waist, and fled from his bedroom. As he shoved his feet into his shoes, he could hear the sounds of Milan in the kitchen, laughing, and he shouted goodbye before fleeing out the front door. Before the door fully closed, he thought he heard Milan shout “Be safe!” He pedaled faster to campus than he normally would and thankfully hit every single green light on the way. He made it to his building in a matter of minutes, hastily locking his bike, before he fled up the stairs. 

Yasmina smiled at him as he flopped down beside her, out of breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Robbe replied. “Just woke up a little late.”

Yasmina rolled her eyes and handed him a bottle of water which he greedily took from her hands. “We’ve still got a few more minutes until class starts. Maybe you can have your breathing under control by then?” 

Robbe smiled over at her. He took a long sip of the water, feeling it chill his body instantaneously. He pulled his phone from his pocket. Robbe wanted to send Milan a text to let him know that he had made it to school safely. But an Instagram notification at the top of the page stopped him before he could and Robbe bit down on his lip to keep his smile down.

_ earthlingoddity started following you. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How does one start opening notes? I haven't figured it out quite yet.

**Zaterdag 15:52**

13 June, 14:32

earthlingoddity:  _ Hello. _ _   
_ _ I got impatient. _

13 June, 15:52

sterkerdanijzer:  _ Hi. Impatient for what? _ _   
_ _ Sorry, I was studying. _

earthlingoddity:  _ For you to text me, of course _ _   
_ _ I’ve been waiting. _

sterkerdanijzer:  _ Oh, sorry. _ _   
_ _ I didn’t know you wanted me to text you _

earthlingoddity:  _ It’s why I gave you my card. _

sterkerdanijzer: _ I thought it was so I would know your Insta _ _   
_ _ So I could “stalk” you properly _

earthlingoddity:  _ I thought you were a “busy college student” _

sterkerdanijzer:  _ I took a break. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Ah, I’m flattered.  _ _   
_ _ But it was for both.  _ _   
_ _ I can have ulterior motives.  _

sterkerdanijzer:  _ Oh? Like what? _

earthlingoddity:  _ General text-message stuff. Getting to know you. _ _   
_ _ Trying to find blackmail info on Senne _

sterkerdanijzer:  _ Like the time Milan pranked him by pretending to be Zoë? _

earthlingoddity:  _ And wanting to see if you would like to go back to the bar again _ _   
_ _ It’s a good place. _ _   
_ _ Wait, what? _

sterkerdanijzer:  _ Yeah, Senne was sleeping after a night of partying _ _   
_ _ Milan climbed into the bed while he was asleep and pranked him. _

earthlingoddity:  _ I have to get him to tell me that story.  _

sterkerdanijzer:  _ If he even remembers. He was hungover. _

earthlingoddity:  _ True. I have a feeling that he does though. _ _   
_ _ So, do you want to go? _

sterkerdanijzer:  _ To the bar? _

earthlingoddity:  _ Yes.  _ _   
_ _ With me. _ _   
_ _ If that wasn’t clear _

sterkerdanijzer:  _ Yeah, sure, I want to go. _ _   
_ _ When do you want to go? _

earthlingoddity:  _ Whenever you want. _ _   
_ _ It’s a great place and you deserve a better experience there. _

sterkerdanijzer:  _ Oh, and you’re going to get it for me. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Of course. Do you doubt me? _

sterkerdanijzer:  _ No _ .

earthlingoddity:  _ But I’m available anytime this week. _ _   
_ _ Tonight. Tomorrow. Any day.  _

sterkerdanijzer:  _ I can’t do tonight. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Tomorrow? _

sterkerdanijzer:  _ I can do tomorrow. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Great! 18:30 sound good? _

sterkerdanijzer:  _ Yeah, it’ll be good _ .

earthlingoddity:  _ Great! Can’t wait.  _ _   
_ _ Robbe IJzermans, prepare to be mindblown _ .

* * *

**Zondag 18:25**

When Robbe had seen the message pop up on his phone in the middle of his Saturday afternoon stream, it had taken nearly all of his willpower not to answer it right there. He had toyed with the idea—multiple times—of sending a message to Sander. But every time that Robbe typed up a message and nearly hit send, he would talk himself out of it and delete it altogether. Then, Robbe had seen the notification on his lock screen— _ earthlingoddity sent you a message _ —and, despite the fact that he had started the stream thirty minutes before, he had been ready to leap to the phone to respond. 

Robbe managed to restrain himself from doing so, trying his best to focus on the stream and the chat while in front of the computer. Yet he didn’t even last an hour. Once his eagerness to read the message got the better of him, he announced that he was taking a break before immediately taking his phone in the other room. Despite the length of time that had passed between his text and Robbe’s response, Sander responded back immediately and their entire conversation made Robbe’s stomach swell. 

So much so that he nearly forgot to go back to the stream.

From the moment that Robbe sat down at the table—the one next to the jukebox that Sander said he loved so much—he could feel the nervous bubble in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know why he was so nervous to meet Sander. It wasn’t the first time that he was alone with Sander. They had been short interactions, all interrupted by something or someone they couldn’t control, but they had been nice all the same. Yet he felt nervous; like he was sixteen all over again, heading out on his first date with the first guy he liked. 

And it brought up another question—was this a date?

In every sense of the word, except for being labeled as such, it felt like a date. Robbe and Sander were two people meeting up at a bar to hang out, have a few drinks, and get to know each other. Since Wednesday, all of their conversations—especially their texts in the past 24 hours—had been flirtatious. Whenever Robbe thought about it, it felt like a date or, rather, a  _ potential  _ date. For all he knew, Sander simply wanted to hang out because they got along so well. Maybe he flirted with everyone. 

When Sander arrived, dressed in a graphic shirt, a pair of skinny jeans that curved to his legs, and a blinding smile, Robbe felt his stomach clench a little. The bleach-blond headed over to the bar gracefully, where, as soon as he had stepped inside, the bartender had placed a beer on the counter. Sander waited until she served another then, moved to the table where Robbe was waiting and placed one of the glasses on the coaster in front of him. 

“I hope a beer is okay,” Sander said, grinning at him.

“Yeah, it’s good,” Robbe replied, moving the glass closer to him. 

There was a moment of silence that drew out in the space between them. It wasn’t like the silence that he experienced with Thomas, especially in the last months of their relationship, where it felt like someone was dragging their nails across a chalkboard. That silence was the kind that could make a minute feel like an hour, as Robbe teetered uncomfortably on scattered eggshells. With Sander, the silence felt warmer and more comfortable, as though both of them were unsure how to start, but there was an eagerness in the air like they couldn’t wait to begin.

Robbe took a sip of his beer, swallowing his nerves. “So,” he said. Sander glanced at him, raising his glass to his lips. Robbe searched for a question to ask, trying not to seem too invasive, before settling on. “How did you and Senne meet?” 

“Let’s see,” Sander chuckled. There was a serious look on his face as he launched into the story. Robbe leaned forward to anticipation. “It was a month or two after he and Zoë split up. There was this little bakery near my apartment that I would always go to. One morning, I was rushing to get croissants for my step-mother as Senne was entering the store and you can imagine what happened.” Robbe laughed. “And, after that, we started talking when we were both in the store—the general stuff, studies, relationships. Then, we exchanged numbers. Once that happened, we were virtually inseparable and he quickly became my best friend.” 

“That’s awesome,” Robbe commented. “I’m glad that he found a friend after leaving the flatshare.”

“Yeah, it’s been a fun time,” Sander said before asking, “Do you have a job on campus?”

Robbe shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said. “I—” Robbe caught himself before he could continue, biting down on his bottom lip. Sander glanced up questionably and Robbe shook his head. “No, I don’t really have a job. My dad helps pay for my expenses and stuff.” 

“That’s nice of him,” Sander said. 

“Yeah, I think he might still feel guilty,” Robbe admitted. 

“What for?” 

As Robbe launched into the story about his father leaving his mother, he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty about the white lie that he had told Sander. 

Over the past two years of streaming full-time, he had grown used to the upturned noses, uncomfortable looks, and snide remarks about how he should “grow up.” There were people in the world who didn’t believe that Robbe could make a comfortable living by playing games on the Internet or liked to voice their opinions on his life. While Robbe knew he couldn’t do it permanently, at least at his current level, Robbe never felt comfortable hearing people rip into what he loved. Generally, he avoided talking about it until he knew someone better. 

When Thomas had found out, back in their second month of dating, Robbe had been worried that he would react that way. But Thomas had surprised him. He had wanted to learn more about Fortnite and watched his streams in between classes and studying. Thomas had been one of the rare exceptions of the people he dated in that regard. If Sander launched into a tangent about what he was doing to get money for bills and expenses, Robbe wouldn’t know how to feel.

“That sucks,” Sander said, pulling Robbe out of his thoughts. His companion was staring at Robbe as he traced the rim of his glass with his pointer finger, the silver band glinting in the light of the bar. “I never had to go through a divorce so I can’t imagine how heavy that must’ve been.”

“Yeah,” Robbe admitted. “When my dad left, my mom crashed. I tried my best to be there for her, but I knew there was only so much I could do. I resented him for leaving us and then for trying to take me away from her. But since then, we’ve managed to repair our relationship a little.”

“That’s good,” Sander said. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it’s never going to be the way it was before,” Robbe said sadly. Seeing Sander’s soft gaze, those green eyes pointed directly at him, Robbe had to fight the blush growing on his cheeks and ducked his head down. “I don’t know. Sometimes I get nostalgic.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Sander said. He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. The song playing on the jukebox behind them ended and it let out a light buzz as it searched for a new song to play. Sander shrugged his shoulders as he turned to Robbe. “Sometimes I like to think about what might have happened if—” 

Suddenly, a song broke out from the speakers. Sander cut himself off mid-sentence. For a second, it looked like something else washed over him. His head tilted back, letting out a content sigh, and Robbe simply watched him in curiosity. His eyes lingered on the beauty mark on his cheek and the mole on his neck. Then, as soon as it began, Sander snapped out of it and turned to him again. Robbe didn’t even register the embarrassment of being caught because Sander was speaking again, “Do you know David Bowie?” 

“A little,” Robbe admitted. 

Truth to be told, Robbe had heard of David Bowie before. One evening, Thomas had taken Robbe out to a small restaurant near the campus. While the two of them were talking, a song came on the radio that caused Thomas’s nose to twist up in disgust and a sneer covered his face. Soon after, Thomas had launched into a mini-rant about David Bowie and 80s music and how he hated the rift or the acoustic. Every time a particular song would come on, Thomas would launch into a discussion about it, ripping the song and its lyrics to shreds. Most times, Robbe would tune the majority of the rant out, trying to hone in on the song he hated so much. Since then, Robbe made sure to never bring up David Bowie or switch the station.

Even if he was enjoying the song. 

“So,” Sander said, bringing him back. “By ‘a little,’ you mean ‘not at all.’” 

“What? No, I do,” Robbe said, laughing. 

“Okay,” Sander said, smirking at him. “Name three of his songs.” 

“Okay, challenge accepted. Space Oddity,” Robbe listed off, holding up one finger. In the briefest of moments, Sander’s face lit up and his emerald green eyes somehow got brighter. “Life on Mars, and…” he trailed off, holding up a second finger. Robbe bit down hard on his lip, trying (and failing) to ignore the soft look on Sander’s face. “Ah, and Heroes.” As Robbe glanced over to him, the corner of Sander’s lips tugged up and Robbe leaned towards him. “How did I do?”

“Three out of three,” Sander said, grinning. 

Robbe fist-pumped. 

“I’m impressed,” Sander admitted, leaning toward him. “You don’t really strike me for a Bowie fan.” 

“I’m not,” Robbe admitted. At his admission, Sander looked downright offended. Robbe felt his cheeks flush under Sander’s intense gaze and he quickly added, “At least, not really. I’ve heard a handful of his songs on the radio and I really liked them. But when it came to older music, specifically David Bowie, uh, my ex-boyfriend was always incredibly opinionated about it.” 

There was a disgusted look on his face as Robbe took the final drink of his beer. “How opinionated?” Sander asked, curious.

“Bad opinionated,” Robbe admitted. He shrugged and leaned on the edge of the table. “Every time an 80s song would come on, he would launch into a rant about the acoustics or the lyrics of the particular song. I’m not sure if it was specifically 80s music, but that’s what he would say it was. And it would go on forever. From the way he was talking, you would have thought he was arguing a case in a courtroom, not talking about a song on the radio that he didn’t have to listen to.” 

For a moment, Sander was quiet. His bright green eyes were staring at Robbe intensely, and Robbe couldn’t help the need to stare right back. As his brown eyes connected with Sander’s green ones, he felt the electric spark shoot through him again. Robbe bit down on his lip, refusing to look away as Sander continued. Then, Sander announced, “Well, your ex-boyfriend has bad taste.”

Robbe blinked, confused. “Huh?” 

“What? He does,” Sander said, matter-of-factly. He twisted on his stool and grabbed his empty beer glass in one hand. Turning to Robbe, he held up one finger. “Firstly, he doesn’t like David Bowie or, as you say, ‘80s music,’ which is an automatic sign that he doesn’t have good taste.” 

“I think your scale is a little biased,” Robbe said, grinning at him.

“Maybe a little,” Sander admitted, shrugging “But David Bowie is an amazing artist and what I wouldn’t give to have discovered him sooner.” Robbe chuckled, shaking his head. “And, secondly,” Sander added, holding up a second finger. “He broke up with you, right? From our talk the other day, you didn’t seem to actually want to end the relationship.”

“Yeah,” Robbe whispered. “He was the one that wanted to break up.” 

“There you go,” Sander stated. He reached toward Robbe, grabbing the empty glass out of his hands. Robbe looked at him as Sander leaned closer to him, grinning from ear-to-ear. “No one with a good sense of taste would walk away from you. Your ex broke up with you. Therefore, even if he did like David Bowie, he couldn’t have good taste.” 

Robbe swallowed, his stomach swelling unexpectedly. As his brain struggled to keep up with what Sander had just said, Robbe found himself struggling to keep the heat from rising to his cheeks. 

With a knowing look in his eyes, Sander held up the glass that Robbe had relinquished. “Did you want a refill?”

“Yeah,” Robbe replied. When his voice cracked a little, he swallowed again. Thankfully, his voice didn’t crack as he added, “Yes, I would like a refill. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Sander grinned, sliding off the stool with ease. “I’ll be right back.” 

Robbe nodded. As Sander moved to the bar, Robbe watched him without hesitation. Once Sander reached the bar and handed over the glasses, the bartender, an older woman with brown hair, quickly set to work with refilling the glasses. As the two of them talked, Robbe couldn’t tear his eyes away from Sander. Even if he wanted to, which he didn’t, Robbe couldn’t stop thinking about Sander and his confession. Quickly, Sander glanced over at him and smiled once he saw Robbe was looking. 

Without thinking, Robbe returned the smile before shifting his attention elsewhere. As he focused on the nearby television, which was playing a football game, Robbe let out a shaky breath, trying to calm his nerves as one thought ran through his mind. Now, it definitely felt like a date.

* * *

**Maandag 19:21**

“I really like this bar,” Jens declared before taking a drink. “We should come here more often.” 

Robbe chuckled before he glanced around the bar. 

With exams quickly approaching, Robbe hadn’t expected it to be busy. But there was an average amount of people in the small bar where they had met the girls. The four of them—Lucas was studying with some classmates—took up a small circular table near the door with chips and drinks in front of them. The rest of the tables were filled by groups of varying sizes. The speaker pinned against the wall was playing a song that flooded the bar, making Moyo dance in his seat and Aaron beatbox along with him. 

Toward the back of the bar, there was a brown-haired girl with headphones over her head bent over a textbook, making flashcards. 

As he watched her, Robbe could feel his own anxiety creep in at the corners of his brain. It pulled at him, at his shoulders, at his stomach—a constant nagging reminder that Robbe should be studying. But, here he was, hanging out with his friends at a bar as they talked about anything  _ but  _ their studies. Robbe tried to calm his breathing before he got launched fully into an anxiety-induced tailspin. It was only for an hour, to relax a little after a tense stream and a tense day, and he could always go back to studying later. 

“You okay?” Jens asked, nudging his side. 

“Yeah,” Robbe replied.

“Are you sure?” Moyo insisted.

“Is Thomas still giving you shit about the watch?” 

“No,” Robbe said. He took a swing of his beer and the server materialized with another round for them. There was a voice in the back of Robbe’s head that told him not to have a second beer. He did need to study later, after all. But the prospect of nulling his anxious stomach won and he was reaching for the glass to replace his empty one. Once the server left with their empty glasses, Robbe added, “Since I stopped acknowledging his attempts to try and give me the watch back, he’s been radio silent. No calls, no texts, no Facebook messages.” 

“Good for you,” Jens said.

“I don’t know why he’s so insistent to give it back to you,” Moyo remarked, crossing his arms. He took a swing of his beer before continuing on like he hadn’t stopped. “If my ex wanted to give me back a gift, I wouldn’t be trying to force her to take it back. It’s not right. You got out of that relationship at the right time, Robbe.” 

Robbe could see Jens nod beside him before he asked, “How did the rest of your stream end up going? Did that troll end up leaving permanently or did he just keep coming back?”

“Kept coming back,” Robbe said. At Moyo and Aaron’s confused gazes, he explained, “There was a troll in my chat who was trying to tell me how to play, which weapons I should be using, and whatever. He kept doing it to antagonize me and I kept timing him out. After his second ban, he threatened to report me if I banned him again which I ended up doing as soon as he started antagonizing some of the moderators.”

“That’s crazy,” Aaron said. “Do you think he will?”

Robbe shrugged. “I don’t know. But if they do, Twitch has records of the chat and stuff. So if they look into it, they’ll see that I gave him three warnings and—” Robbe was cut off by the abrupt vibration of his phone against the metal table. Robbe finished, “They should side with me on that matter. I’ve always been pretty strict about things like that.”

“Yeah,” Jens remarked. “Still sucks when it happens though.” 

Robbe shrugged and turned his phone over to see who was trying to get in touch with him. Even though they had been messaging since the end of their “date,” Robbe still felt his stomach flipping in glee at the prospect of another message. For the past two hours, Sander had stopped responding. Robbe had checked a handful of times—because of the high volume of his Instagram notifications, he had all of them turned off—but each time, he wasn’t active. Robbe wondered if he had done something, but he refrained from asking. 

As Moyo launched into a story, Robbe opened up the message.

earthlingoddity:  _ Sorry about that.  _ _   
_ _ Amber was demanding that I help her with dinner. _ _   
_ _ And you know how she can get. _ _   
_ _ You should absolutely go hang out with your friends. _ _   
_ _ You need to give your beautiful brain a rest! _

Biting down on his lip, Robbe tried his best to fight the blush that was threatening to overtake his face. It hadn’t been the first time that Sander had called him beautiful and it had produced a similar reaction out of him. As the two of them were leaving the bar so Robbe could get some studying in before bed, it had slipped out of Sander’s mouth so easily and freely that it caught him off-guard. As soon as Sander noticed the blood rushing to his cheeks, he had taken the opportunity to tease him a little more. 

“I don’t believe you,” Robbe had laughed. 

“Why? Because I speak the truth?” Sander had responded. His face was masked with a serious look, but even in the darkness of the street, Robbe could see the playful glint in his eye. Then, he had stated, matter-of-factly, “I will just keep telling you until you believe me.” 

As they stood by the bike racks, with his bike unlocked and Sander fiddling with his car keys, there had been a fraction of a second where Robbe had wondered if Sander was going to kiss him. As their night had drawn, Sander’s flirting had increased tenfold. Robbe wasn’t sure how it happened, but he felt giddy and excited and scared as they stood by the bike racks, teetering as they both tried to find a reason to extend their night. But the thought had disappeared from his head and Robbe bid him goodbye as he left. 

By the time he had made it to the flatshare and collected his textbook, Sander had already messaged him about possibly meeting up again. Even though Robbe wasn’t sure, what with his exams quickly approaching, he had wholeheartedly agreed, but they just hadn’t decided when. 

“What’s the smile for?” 

The question, accompanied by the all-knowing grin that Jens possessed whenever he could read Robbe like a fucking  _ book _ , brought him back to reality. He wasn’t in the comfort of his bedroom studying. He was out with his friends, who were all looking at him with a look of intrigue and understanding. The three of them remained quiet before Robbe managed, “Uh—”

But that had been enough.

While his two other friends began to chuckle, a devious smile formed on Jens’ face as he announced to the entirety of the bar, “You’ve met someone, haven’t you?” When Robbe couldn’t figure out what to say, and instead buried his face in his hands, the mere movement had gotten his friends a little more riled up and curious. “Come on, man,” Jens said, grinning. “Why didn’t you tell us or me, at least? I’m your best friend.”

“I haven’t even really  _ met  _ anyone,” Robbe insisted. Jens sent him a look that said ‘I don’t believe you’ and Robbe had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Honestly, we started texting the other day and hung out for a few hours yesterday. But in all honesty, I don’t even know how I feel about it.” 

“And you don’t have to,” Jens said. When Robbe sent him a look, Jens insisted, crossing his arms, “I’m serious, Robbe. You don’t have to know how you feel about it right away. Let it have time to breathe and you will be able to figure out naturally.”

Robbe squinted at him. “When did you become such a relationship expert?”

Jens shrugged, taking a drink. “When I started dating Lucas.” 

Robbe rolled his eyes before turning to Moyo. Like Robbe, Moyo was single as well. He had been in and out of a few short relationships since high school. About four months ago, he decided to take a break for himself and while he has pursued some girls at clubs, he never went home with any of them. “So,” Robbe started, grinning over at him. “Have you met anyone interesting yet?”

As soon as the question left Robbe’s mouth, a shy grin formed over Moyo’s face and he mirrored the move that Robbe had done. Instantly, Moyo became the center of attention with Jens and Aaron wondering about this mystery girl that made him so shy. As Moyo sent him a glance, Robbe grinned over at him and eagerly listened to Moyo talk about the girl that he was interested in.

* * *

**Dinsdag 17:38**

earthlingoddity _ : Here you go.   
The best David Bowie playlist ever! _

sterkerdanijzer _ : Wow, you made me a whole playlist. _

earthlingoddity _ : Anything for you.   
You’ve got to get studied up.   
But you’ve passed your first quiz.   
So that’s promising. _

sterkerdanijzer _ : Quiz? _

earthlingoddity: _ Why, your Bowie quiz, of course!   
You got a perfect score! _

sterkerdanijzer _ : Oh that lol _

earthlingoddity _ : You’ve got to keep up your grade. _

sterkerdanijzer _ : Unfortunately, I don’t know if I’ll be able to study much.   
Since exams are coming up.   
Is it a hard exam? _

earthlingoddity _ : Extremely.   
But you might earn some leniency with the professor.   
I hear he’s open to persuasion. _

sterkerdanijzer _ : What kind of persuasion? _

earthlingoddity _ : It’s up to you.    
But he knows that your studies are more important. _

sterkerdanijzer _ : I’m so glad to have such an understanding professor.   
I’ll get started studying as soon as I can. _

earthlingoddity _ : Such a studious student.    
Maybe we can review the next time we meet up. _

sterkerdanijzer _ : Sounds good.   
I have a feeling I’ll need all the studying I can get. _

earthlingoddity: _ How’s your other studying going?    
What are you working on? _

sterkerdanijzer _ : Right now, Biology   
Got a test next Wednesday. _

earthlingoddity _ : You’ve got time before then.   
Don’t overstress yourself.  _

sterkerdanijzer _ : I’ll try. _

* * *

**Woensdag 21:51**

Thomas

17, June: 21:51

Robbe: _Why did you call my mom?_

Thomas: Y _ou weren’t answering my texts, Robbe._ _   
How else am I supposed to contact you? _

Robbe: _I don’t want the watch, Thomas._ _   
You won’t leave it alone.   
That’s why I stopped responding. _

Thomas: _I’m just trying to figure out why you gave the watch back._

Robbe: _Are you serious?_

Thomas: _Yes!_ _   
I just don’t understand, Robbe.  _

Robbe: _I don’t want it!_ _   
Why is that so hard for you to understand?   
I do not want the watch. _

Thomas: _Robbe, you need a working watch._

Robbe: _And I also need you to understand that my watch works just fine._ _   
It has a dead battery.   
That doesn’t make it completely unusable.   
As soon as I get a new battery, it’s good as new. _

Thomas: _Why haven’t you?_

Robbe: _I’m studying for exams!_ _   
I’m done with this conversation.   
I don’t need the watch.   
I don’t want it.   
Leave it alone. _

Thomas: _Robbe, come on._

17 June, 22:08

Thomas: _Robbe_?

17 June, 22:22

Thomas: _Robbe_?!

* * *

17 June, 22:24

earthlingoddity

sterkerdanijzer: _Hey_

earthlingoddity: _Hey_ _   
Is everything okay?   
I thought you were studying.  _

sterkerdanijzer: _Yeah, I was._ _   
My mom called me.   
Apparently my ex called her. _

earthlingoddity: _What about?_

sterkerdanijzer: _Just about a stupid watch._ _   
We had a fight about it.   
Now I can’t concentrate. _

earthlingoddity: _Need a distraction from it?_

sterkerdanijzer: _Desperately._ _   
Got any ideas? _

earthlingoddity: _I’ve got one._ _   
Give me a minute or two. _

* * *

**Woensdag 22:39**

Sander’s final text message was a simple address to a nearby park, and while he knew little about what they were doing, as soon as he received it, Robbe grabbed his phone and his wallet and headed out of the flatshare. If his roommates noticed his abrupt exit, they didn’t ask about it. As Robbe biked to the address that Sander sent, the thrill of not knowing their plans—and meeting up with Sander—melted a little of the residual anger that bubbled up in the aftermath of Thomas and his texts.

At first, Robbe had been angry at Thomas for calling his mama. It was the reason that Robbe finally decided to text him back after the number of messages that he had left on read. But as soon as Thomas responded, his anger returned in full force because his ex-boyfriend wasn’t  _ getting  _ it. Why couldn’t Thomas simply take the watch and leave Robbe alone? Why was he making such a big deal about the fact that Robbe was returning a watch that he never used? As the conversation drew on, the explosion grew in his head, the anger at Thomas with it, and Robbe stopped the conversation, unable to take any more of it. 

But his anger hadn’t gone away.

As he attempted to focus on his Bio notes in front of him, on the review that he was glancing over again, his focus kept drifting to his phone. Thomas was still sending him messages and each ding from his phone amplified the anger boiling inside of him. Robbe was not an angry person by nature. He didn’t like lashing out—hated it with a passion—but Thomas was getting close to causing an eruption with Robbe at the center. He needed to get away from the flatshare and distract himself until the anger went away, which was why he picked up his phone and messaged Sander without thinking. 

And, here he was, biking to a park to meet Sander. 

Even in near darkness, it was easy for Robbe to spot Sander once he arrived. With the bright full moon shining in the sky, Sander’s bleach-blond hair stood out, reflecting the silver moonlight. The tattoo artist in question was lying on what looked like a blanket in the middle of the grove with one arm tucked beneath his head. There seemed to be a small wicker basket next to his head, but Robbe didn’t have a clue on what was inside.

As Robbe approached, dragging his bike with him, Sander glanced away from the stars, his green eyes catching Robbe approaching, and a smile burst across his face. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Robbe grinned over at him. As Robbe leaned his bike against a nearby tree, Sander sat up on the blanket, crossing his legs beneath him. Robbe moved toward him and Sander patted the area beside him. He quickly sat down and crossed his legs beneath him. “Why does it not surprise me that you would be into stargazing?” Sander chuckled as he pulled the basket closer to him. “What did you bring?”

“I brought grapes, strawberries, and other fruits,” Sander said. He opened the basket to show Robbe before reaching in and pulling out two bottles of beer. “I also figured you might want at least one of these.” 

“Yes,” Robbe said. Sander grinned, opening one before handing it over to him. Robbe quickly took a sip of it as Sander opened the other one. “You should’ve told me that you were bringing stuff. I would’ve stopped by and grabbed something on my way.” 

“Nah, you had a lot on your mind,” Sander said. He pulled out a handful of strawberries from a plastic bag before proceeding to feed one to Robbe. He bit down on the fruit as Sander ate one himself. “So did you want to talk about it?” he asked before adding, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just thought I would ask.”

“I just don’t understand,” Robbe said, frustrated. He took a swing of his beer before continuing. “He pulls away, he breaks up with me, and, as far as I’m aware, moves on. It takes him three months to get his clothes from my apartment. But as soon as I return this dumb watch that I wasn’t even using, he starts acting like I just pulled out a gun and shot him in the foot.”

“Maybe you should’ve.”

“I just don’t get it,” Robbe said. “I don’t get him.”

“I don’t get him either,” Sander echoed, grinning over at Robbe. “I mean, he broke up with you. I don’t see how anyone could possibly think of doing that.” Robbe felt his cheeks flush considerably and, judging from the way that Sander’s grin grew, he could tell. “Besides, I’m sure he’ll realize his mistake sooner or later.” 

“I’m not sure I want him to,” Robbe admitted quietly. Sander glanced up over him, raising a dark eyebrow, as Robbe glanced at him. Their eyes met and Robbe shrugged before returning his gaze to his beer. “A few months ago, I would’ve jumped at the chance of us getting back together. But after this, after him just trying to force me to take a watch that I don’t even want, I don’t think I could ever go back to him.” 

“I get it,” Sander said. There was a little sorrow in his voice as he leaned back, propping himself up on one arm. His eyes were directed up to the sky, to the stars twinkling above them, and he let out a sigh. “Like you finally saw their true colors and you don’t know how you missed it?” 

Robbe nodded. “Yeah.”

“I had an ex-girlfriend who was really controlling. From what she told me, something happened in her last relationship and she was trying to fix what she had done wrong.” Sander paused, biting down on a grape before continuing. “So she was even more controlling than she even realized. I didn’t realize how much until we broke it off and Senne pointed it out. We’re still pretty decent friends now, but we’ve decided that we’re never going to give it another shot.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought it was always me.”

“I’m sorry,” Robbe said. 

“It’s okay. It was years ago.”

There was a comfortable silence between them. Robbe took a drink of his beer before glancing over at Sander, who was resting against the blanket. His bright green eyes were focused on Robbe and he couldn’t look away from them. Sander laid down, his eyes directed at the sky, before reaching out to pat the blanket behind Robbe. “Come on, I’ll share my wisdom about the night sky.”

“Is there going to be a pop quiz?” Robbe asked, taking a drink. 

Sander grinned as Robbe laid down beside him. “Nope. Just a small lecture. If you can keep up.”

“If I had known that, I would’ve brought my notebook,” Robbe muttered, causing Sander to belt out a laugh next to him.

* * *

**Woensdag 23:43**

There were only a handful of constellations that Sander knew, or at least that he could accurately point out. 

The first thing Sander had shown Robbe was the David Bowie constellation. It was shaped in the form of a lightning bolt and had a total of seven stars. According to Sander, the constellation sat in the vicinity of Mars, which was fitting because of some of his songs. Sander traced it out in the night sky and Robbe had to scoot closer to see the figure that he was drawing with the constellations. After showing him the depiction of his idol, Sander showed Robbe the constellations that he knew by heart. Once he had run out of those, they started looking up constellations on Google and searching for them. 

Trying to find each of the specific stars in the masses of similar stars was a difficult task. More than once, the two of them found the wrong star in a sequence and would go searching for the right one. Occasionally, they would lose it and have to start all over again. But the two of them descended into laughter as they munched on the fruit and sipped the beer that had quickly gotten warm. Sander was nursing his first one and Robbe had reached the start of his third.

After the two of them were struggling to find one of the zodiac signs in the sky, Robbe asked, “What do your tattoos mean?” Sander glanced up from his phone, which cast a white glow across his face. Sander’s legs were crossed beneath him. Robbe’s were splayed out with one leg over Sander’s knee as he laid against the blanket staring at him. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. I was just curious.”

A small smile spread on Sander’s face. “Not everyone gets tattoos that mean something to them. Some people just get tattoos that look good.”

“I know,” Robbe said, popping a grape in his mouth. In an effort to small-talk with Noor, he had asked her the same question and the majority of hers didn’t have a personal meaning. She had gotten them because she wanted them. “You just seem like the person who might have a few with a personal meaning.” There was a moment of silence between them. “Am I wrong?” he asked. 

Sander smiled before reaching out his right arm toward Robbe. “One.”

“There’s only one with meaning?”

“No,” Sander said, grinning at him. “You can only learn about one of them at a time.” 

“Aww, why?” Robbe complained. Despite that, he could feel a smile growing. Sander shook his head with a small smile on his face and Robbe pouted at him. He reached out, grabbing Sander’s right wrist in his hand, before looking the tattoos over. Sander’s skin was warm in his hand and he could feel Sander’s bright green eyes on it. Robbe glanced up at him. “Is there any way I can learn more than one?”

Sander chuckled. “Maybe if you bribe the teacher.” 

Robbe smiled up at him, feeling the blush on his cheeks. His eyes dragged over the sunflower, the dragonflies, before settling on the trees. “What do the trees mean? I saw a photo of them on your Instagram.” 

Sander smiled at him fondly. “The trees are the outline of the forest outside my grandparents’ home. When I was little, I used to go hiking in the woods with my dad. One time, I wandered away and my dad didn’t notice and I got lost. I was scared, but he eventually found me and took me back. Once I got to secondary school, I hit a rough spot and I started feeling that ‘lost in the woods’ feeling every day. When I got out of it, it was because of my family and my friends, so when I started designing my tattoos, I decided that I wanted the trees to be the base to remind myself that I’m not alone anymore.” 

Robbe nodded, smiling a little. “That’s really sweet.” 

“Don’t spread that around, it’ll ruin my reputation.”

“Your reputation as what?” Robbe asked, laughing. 

As he waited for Sander’s response, he dragged his finger across the outline of the largest and darkest tree. The pad of his finger traced along every jagged edge of the tree, every branch, every twig that jetted out. It wasn’t a smooth silhouette of a tree but it added the realism to the tattoo. The tattoo looked like it had been traced exactly from the photo on his Insta. Sander shuddered beneath Robbe’s fingertip and he glanced up at him. 

Sander’s bright green eyes were focused solely on him, connecting quickly with Robbe’s brown ones. As soon as their eyes were locked together, Robbe felt the same electric spark shoot through his nervous system again. His entire body felt warm—warmer where his hand was gripping onto Sander’s wrist. But it might be the mild night air and the lukewarm beer messing with Robbe’s mind. Glancing up at Sander, he watched as the bleach-blond glanced down at him, biting his lip beneath his teeth. 

Gently, Sander pulled his wrist from Robbe’s featherlight grip. He rested his forearm by Robbe’s head, using it to brace himself as he leaned down. For a second, all Robbe could do was watch him, wondering what Sander was thinking, as his green eyes searched his brown ones. Then, Sander’s eyes flickered down to his lips. It only lasted a fraction of a second, but he caught it all the same. Robbe swallowed, tilting his head up a little, and his own eyes wandered to Sander’s mouth. 

There was a determined look in Sander’s eye before he started leaning closer.

With his back pressed against the ground, Robbe felt like he was witnessing the moment in slow motion. The seconds dragged on and blended together in one hazy motion. There was a part of him that felt like he should stop Sander before they kissed because it all felt too soon and too fast. But at the same time, Robbe didn’t want it to stop. He could see that Sander was watching him closely, his eyes silently analyzing his every move, waiting for Robbe to speak up—to say no, to ask him to stop, to push him away—but Robbe didn’t. He didn’t want Sander to stop.

In fact, Robbe wanted Sander to come closer—faster—until their lips crashed together. 

Robbe felt his eyes fluttering close as he waited for the kiss—for Sander’s kiss. He felt Sander’s other hand press against his thigh. Even through his jeans, he could feel Sander’s body heat, adding to the electric buzz he was feeling. From the second that their noses brushed together, Robbe felt his body crane up for the kiss, trying to meet Sander somewhere in the middle, trying to connect their lips a little bit sooner. 

Sander was so close that Robbe could practically feel the upturn of his smile. Sander tilted his head, moving that much closer, and Robbe reached up, searching for the curve of his jaw. For a split second, as their lips grazed, Robbe wondered if he would be able to taste the grapes and strawberries on his lips or the beer on his tongue—

Like a bucket of ice-cold water being thrown on them, his phone rang out in the quiet space between them. 

Robbe had never been more annoyed at his phone in his life. Letting out a disgruntled noise, Robbe blindly searched for his phone, not wanting to open his eyes. Once he felt Sander moving away from him, he opened his eyes. Sander was sitting straight up again, reaching for something. As soon as Sander found his phone and held it in his hand, a thought rang through Robbe’s head, practically begging the universe:  _ please, please, don’t be Thomas _ . Sander held up the phone for him to see. 

Lucas.

Robbe let out a relieved breath, reaching for the phone. Once it was in his hand, he answered it quickly with a tense, “Hello?” 

“Hey,” Lucas said, sounding tense. “It’s safe for you to come home.”

“Lucas,” Robbe groaned, running a hand through his hair. His leg was still draped over Sander’s and neither of them made any effort to move it. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.” 

“Thomas stopped by,” Lucas said. Robbe felt his blood run cold and he resisted the urge to bolt upright. “He said that he needed to talk to you ‘face-to-face’ about that fucking watch. When I told him that you weren’t here, he didn’t believe me until I showed him your empty room.”

“Please tell me you told him to fuck off.”

“I did not,” Lucas said. “He seemed pissed and I didn’t want to test him. I didn’t know if that was why you left earlier so I thought I would let you know that it was safe.” 

“No, I didn’t know he was coming by or I would’ve warned you. It wasn’t why I left,” Robbe said. Before his flatmate and friend could question about where he was, Robbe quickly added, “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll see you when I get back.” 

As soon as the call ended, his notifications lit up the screen. The vast majority of them were text messages or calls from Thomas, trying desperately to get in touch with him. The text messages increased in threats of coming over if there was no response and the number of calls went into the double digits. Robbe let out a sigh, nearly tossing the phone aside before he saw the clock. 

It was past 23:00.

“Is everything okay?” Sander asked.

Robbe sat up and shook his head. “No,” he said, staring up at Sander’s green eyes which were focused solely on him. “It’s past 23:00 and I’ve still got to study a little more before I go to sleep. And I have an early morning class tomorrow morning that I don’t want to go to.” 

To emphasize his point, Robbe pouted which caused Sander to snort. 

Sander smiled softly. “Well, you better get home and study before you get some sleep for that beautiful brain of yours.” 

At his comment, Robbe felt his cheeks flush, burning hot and bright in the summer night. But he didn’t get up from the spot and Sander didn’t move from beneath him. As Robbe lingered on the ground, his leg still draped over Sander’s knee, he wondered—or, rather, hoped—that Sander would lean forward to press their lips together, to actually finish the almost-kiss that had been so rudely interrupted. 

Instead, Sander patted his knee and motioned toward his bike, which was still leaning against the tree. “Go on,” Sander urged. “I’ll pick up the blanket and food. You need to study.”

Robbe nodded, biting back the mild disappointment in his chest. “Okay,” he whispered. “Thank you for meeting up with me.” Sander nodded, grinning genuinely at him before patting his knee again. 

He moved his leg off Sander before standing up on the edge of the blanket. Once he grabbed his phone and his bike, Robbe headed to leave. As he did, he glanced over behind him to see Sander picking up their makeshift picnic. For a few moments, Robbe watched his rhythmic movements before climbing on his bike and heading back to the flatshare. 

* * *

**Donderdag 17:04**

Robbe wasn’t prepared for the sight in the kitchen.

Jonathan was standing at the stove with Milan’s signature floral apron wrapped around his waist. The chef-in-training was dressed in a graphic t-shirt, a pair of joggers, and a stripe of spices across his cheekbone. As Robbe stepped into the kitchen, stopping in his tracks at the unexpected sight, Jonathan raised his head to smile at him. 

Robbe glanced around the room and found Milan sitting at the dining room table. His feet were propped up in one of the chairs and his arms crossed. There was an annoyed look on his face, pointed solely at the back of Jonathan’s head. His laptop was propped open but untouched. Robbe glanced between the two before asking, “What’s going on here?”

Milan let out a sigh, leaning further back in his chair. “Jonathan is insisting on cooking tonight and says that he wants to show me how to really cook. But he refuses to let me help or observe.”

“Oh,” Robbe said, turning to Jonathan. The taller man smirked at him. He opened the oven and pulled out a cookie sheet full of french fries to put on the counter. Robbe grabbed a drink from the fridge and turned back to the guys. “Good for him. He knows that it’s his best bet for not getting food poisoning.” 

Jonathan snorted.

Milan looked downright offended and a giggle escaped out of Robbe’s mouth. He held a hand over his heart and his jaw dropped. But Robbe could see the corners of his lips turning up in a smile as he glanced at Jonathan. “See, I told you, Robbe is getting feisty again. My reliable baby gay is rising up against me and he’s threatening to overthrow me as the feisty gay in the flatshare.” 

“Well,” Jonathan said, turning to look at Milan. “He did learn from the best, didn’t he?”A sheepish grin tugged on Milan’s lips and his cheeks flushed beneath his boyfriend’s gaze. 

Robbe smiled at the two of them before heading out of the kitchen. His mama was expecting him to be there soon to help with their weekly dinner. If he didn’t arrive on time, she would take it upon herself to cook without help. Even when he got there, she would still refuse any help until it was done. So he needed to get there as soon as possible. If he didn’t, there was a risk of being hit away with a spatula as he tried to help and his mother refusing to let him. 

“Nuh-uh, Robbe, get back in here!” Milan called. Robbe turned back to the kitchen. Jonathan was attempting to feed a fry to Milan, who was trying to fend him off. “Do you want to talk about where—no, Jonathan, I promise that I will eat everything when it’s all ready—where you disappeared off to last night before Thomas showed up?”

All at once, the memory of Sander—the one that Robbe had been thinking about all day and had finally managed to temporarily put out of his mind—came rushing back to him in full force. Their late-night picnic under the stars, the story of the trees on Sander’s tattoo sleeve, the almost-kiss. Just like that, Robbe’s cheeks flushed. He covered his face in an attempt to hide his flush from Milan, but it simply alerted him more and his self-appointed guru gasped loudly. 

“Robbe,” Milan said. He got up, marched over, and grabbed Robbe by the shoulders before he could flee into the hallway. Robbe was guided over to the table and forced into the seat before Milan sat in front of him, blocking him from leaving the kitchen. “There are only a handful of people I’ve ever seen cause a reaction like that and one of them was the person you were avoiding. I want details and I want them now.”

Jonathan sent them a fond glance over his shoulder. 

“Jonathan,” Robbe started. “Will you control your boyfriend?”

Milan opened his mouth to speak, but Jonathan beat him to it without looking up from the stove. “He will not be tamed.” 

“Milan, I’m going to have dinner with my mom—”

“You will as soon as you give me all the details—”

“I don’t even know what to say—”

“Okay,” Milan said, cutting him off again. “Let’s start with something really simple and go from there. Where did you go?”

Robbe glanced at Milan. His roommate and closest confidant sat on the edge of his chair, waiting patiently for him to speak up. Robbe knew from personal experience that he would wait as long as it took. Milan was the type of person who would sit until you were ready to admit something, while simultaneously giving you a little push to do so. It was how Robbe first admitted to him—to anyone, to himself—that he had feelings for a guy, that he wanted to be out with a guy, and everything else Robbe had been too afraid to admit at first. 

Robbe swallowed and let out a breath. “I went to meet someone.” There was a pause hanging in the air and Milan raised a skeptical eyebrow. Then, Robbe added, unconvincingly, “A friend.” 

“A friend?” Milan repeated. 

“Yes,” Robbe said. “A friend.”

“Who is this ‘friend’ of yours? Do I know him?” Milan asked. 

“No, you don’t know him,” Robbe said, shaking his head. “At least, not personally. He…” Robbe trailed off, running his hand over his face. “He’s the guy that I told you about. The one who checked on me outside the bar when I spotted Thomas out with someone.”

For a second, Milan blinked at him, confused. It was a heartbeat later that the realization flourished in Milan’s brown eyes and they widened nearly three sizes. “Wait, the hot stranger who gave you a small therapy session outside the bar?” Before Robbe answered, Milan turned to the confused but unconcerned Jonathan and added, “His words, not mine.” 

“Yeah,” Robbe said, nodding. “That’s the one.” There was a drawn-out pause between them and he knew that Milan was waiting for more details. “I ran into him at a bar last week and then again at a café. He gave me his card which had his Instagram on it so I started following him. We started talking and we haven’t stopped.”

“Okay,” Milan urged on. 

“Anyway, Mama called me yesterday and told me that Thomas called her, looking for me because of that stupid fucking watch. I was pissed so I texted Thomas about it and we fought. After that, I couldn’t focus on my studies so I texted him and we met up in the park.” Without meaning to, a smile formed on Robbe’s lips as he thought of their conversation about the stars and Sander feeding him strawberries and grapes. “And I just forgot, Milan. I totally forgot about Thomas and the watch and my studies.” 

Jonathan briefly earned their attention when he let out a hiss. When he realized that the two of them were staring, he said, “I’m sensing there is something else.”

Milan turned back to Robbe. “Is there something else?”

“Yeah, there is,” Robbe whispered. He bit at his lip, avoiding Milan’s inquisitive eye, as he managed to force out, “Before Lucas called me, we almost kissed.” 

Milan’s eyes lit up and his smile widened. Even Jonathan glanced up from the stovetop before returning to his work, pretending like he wasn’t listening in on the conversation—not like Robbe minded. There was a look on Milan’s face. “And did you want him to kiss you?” 

“Yes,” Robbe breathed out. He covered his face with his hands so he wouldn’t see the look on Milan’s face. Unable to help himself, he repeated, “Yes.” Even with his face covered, he could practically feel the excitement coming off Milan in waves, the bubbling burst of energy that was ready to explode. Before it could, Robbe let out a sigh and asked, “But isn’t it too soon?” 

“Huh?”

“Isn’t it too soon to be thinking about someone else?” Robbe repeated. He could hear the sad defeat in his voice and he continued before he could stop himself. “I mean, last week, I was sitting here in the kitchen with you complaining about how Thomas was out with someone. Even though I’m pissed at him and I don’t want to get back with him, I still love him—I still have feelings for him. Shouldn’t I wait until those are gone before I think about kissing another guy?” 

“Robbe,” Milan said, reaching out to take his hand. “Relationships—and feelings—are incredibly complicated, especially after a long-term relationship. And it doesn’t help that there is no right way to move on from someone. There isn’t. Some people move on quickly. Some take a while. Some have different responses to different relationships. You can still have lingering feelings for Thomas because he was such an important part of your life. But you can also have feelings for this new friend of yours. It’s entirely possible and that’s okay.”

“Is it?” Robbe asked. 

“Yes,” Milan said. “There is only one person in the world who knows when you are ready to move on. And that’s you.” Robbe let out a breath, listening to Jonathan move around and Milan’s voice. “If you feel that you are ready to move on, it is perfectly okay for you to move on. If you want to wait for those feelings to disappear a little more before you start something new, that is perfectly okay too. There is no right or wrong way to move on. There never will be. It’s up to you. You get to control it. Okay?” 

Robbe swallowed, nodding. “Okay.”

“Alright.” Suddenly, Jonathan appeared over Milan’s shoulder. He was no longer wearing the apron and he placed a decently-sized plate of food in front of his boyfriend. Milan blinked down in surprise at the plate before looking up at Jonathan, who loomed over his shoulder. “That’s all the fatherly advice that Robbe can handle for one day. Plus he needs to head to his mama’s house before she starts worrying about him.”

Milan shrugged. “I always saw myself as his rich uncle.” 

Jonathan chuckled, kissing the top of his head. “You can be both.” 

Robbe chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Since this conversation is officially over, Dads, may I please be excused from the table?”

They both nodded without hesitation and Robbe bolted out of the kitchen before they started to kiss. 

As soon as Robbe reached the front door, double-checking his pockets for his wallet and his phone, he heard Zoë call his name. He turned to find his roommate leaving her bedroom at the end of the hall. She moved toward him and glanced briefly in the kitchen. But she quickly averted her eyes and closed the rest of the distance between them. “Do you have a minute to talk before going to see Mama?” 

“Yeah, she’s probably already started cooking without me, anyway,” Robbe said. He spotted the nervous look on her face. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yes,” Zoë said quietly. Her lips turned up in a smile. “I was just thinking about how Senne introduced me to his roommates because they were his family. I wanted to do something similar, but he already knows you and Milan and the girls. So I was thinking…” She trailed off. 

Robbe grinned at her. “You want to introduce Senne to Mama?” 

After moving out of the flatshare, his relationship with Zoë had only strengthened. Zoë used to always come over to study or simply to get out of Milan’s crazy antics. Zoë had quickly become a signature staple at the IJzermans home in high school. Once his mama heard about how she ended up at the flatshare, she had taken up the mantle to shower Zoë with enough motherly affection to make up for it all. 

And Zoë had flourished under it. 

Since living in the flatshare in high school, he considered all of them to be family, bound together by shared experiences and living quarters. But after his mother had basically adopted Zoë, it felt like she had actually become his sister. If his mother could sign adoption papers, she would—especially now that Zoë had zero communication with her biological parents. She even introduced Zoë as her daughter sometimes. 

“Yes,” Zoë said, hiding her face. Nervously, she opened her fingers to look up at him. “Does that seem weird to you?” 

“No, of course not,” Robbe said, chuckling. “She’s practically your mama too. I’m not surprised that you want to introduce your boyfriend to her.” 

Zoë flushed, hiding her face again. “Do you think she would mind it?”

“No,” Robbe said. “If anything, she might be worried about meeting him on a bad day. But she’s always been eager to meet my boyfriends. If you wanted, you can always ask her yourself and try to figure out what might be a good day for the two of you.”

Zoë smiled, biting down on her lip for a fraction of a second. Robbe could see the gears turning in her head. Then, she nodded, before moving toward her room. “Okay, let me just go change into some shorts real quick.” Robbe nodded, quickly texting his mother to let her know that Zoë was joining them. 

* * *

**Vrijdag 22:32**

When Robbe sat down for his typical Friday night stream, he had a plan. For starters, he was only going to stream for the usual three hours that he always did. No more. No less. After, he was going to study for an hour, look over notes for his test on Wednesday, and go to bed. Then, in the morning, he would wake up, have breakfast with the flatshare, and go skating with his friends. After that, he didn’t know. 

Robbe thought he was stronger. 

Once the clock neared 21:00, his chat thoroughly managed to convince him—aided by Moyo and Aaron, chanting over the Discord call—to stream for an additional hour. While the smarter part of Robbe’s brain had begged him to stick to the schedule, he was having so much fun with his friends and the chat that he couldn’t help staying a little longer. As it neared 22:00, he couldn’t help but continue for ‘one more round,’ which turned into five without blinking. 

Then, the universe decided to tell him to get off the stream.

earthlingoddity:  _ It’s so lonely under the stars without you. _

The message screamed Sander in every sense of the word. Yet it made Robbe’s insides twist and turn with such a defined precision that it was elating. Freeing. It was bold and private, a confession for only the two of them, something they had shared. Something Sander wanted to share with Robbe—so openly and so quickly and so boldly. 

Even though the stream was running, Robbe couldn’t leave Sander without a response. 

sterkerdanijzer:  _ Oh, yeah? _ _   
_ _ How can I make it a little less lonely? _

As soon as he hit send (the second time), he turned back to the stream, catching up on the donations and messages. It was practically second nature now. But he still found himself watching for his screen to light up again.

Sander’s next message was the final cannonball into Robbe’s schedule. Whatever ounce of desire to look over his Bio notes, to get to bed on time, splintered into pieces on the ground at the three simple little words that flashed on the screen.

earthlingoddity:  _ Wanna join me? _

* * *

**Vrijdag 22:52**

As soon as the invitation came through, Robbe had abruptly ended the stream and claimed that he needed to get to the studying that he’d been neglecting. His chat had all wished him goodbye and good luck on his upcoming tests. Once the stream ended, he’d practically hung up on his friends and tripped over his feet in his search for a pair of jeans. Once he had switched out his night-stream sweatpants, Robbe was shoving his feet into shoes and typing out a message to Sander.

Sander replied with a wink emoji and then an address.

As Robbe stepped out into the hallway, he quietly shut his door and tiptoed toward the front door. Even though Zoë and Senne were the only ones home, he didn’t want to disturb them in his haste. As Robbe opened the door, he could hear the sounds of their movie sounding from the living room. Feeling like he was sneaking out past curfew, he tiptoed out the door and pulled it closed behind him without a sound. Once the door was locked, Robbe practically sprinted to the elevator, impatiently pressing the button until it opened. 

The address that Sander sent him brought him to a warehouse—or rather, a whole street full of warehouses of all shapes and sizes. Nearly all the surrounding warehouses had their lights shut off and the only light that bathed the street was the harsh white light emanating from the street lights. Other than Robbe and a stray cat that darted into a dark alleyway, the street was empty.

Standing outside of the warehouse with the matching address, he balanced on one foot and looked around, searching for a sign of Sander. Or, at the very least, a clue of where to go. As he hopped off his bike, he spotted another bike in the shadows of the building. It was a dark bike with dark handles but there was a bright red lightning bolt sticker on the bars. It was Sander’s. 

Stepping into the shadows, Robbe leaned his bike on the wall near his before he moved farther into the alleyway in search of Sander. It was short and badly lit. There was enough room for a dumpster and some breathing room, but aside from that, the alleyway was bare of anything else. In the end, it opened up onto the Scheldt and the dark night sky. Robbe stepped out of the alleyway and quickly found who he was looking for. 

Poised on the edge of the concrete, Sander looked like a stone statue, left there for others to stumble upon and gawk at in awe. His bleach-blond hair was ruffled by the light breeze and he was staring across the river with a focused gaze. His legs were dangled over the concrete, hovering high above the dark water below. He was dressed in a plain black shirt and a pair of denim jeans that made Robbe wonder if Sander had just gotten off work. As Robbe approached him, cautiously and with his nerves bouncing frantically in his gut, he accidentally kicked a bottle—which made him jump more than it did Sander, who seemed unbothered. 

The endearing smile that bloomed across Sander’s face did little to calm the mild heart attack that Robbe had given himself. “Hey,” Sander greeted. Robbe moved closer to him and sat down on the edge of the canal with him. Their legs brushed together and the smile on Sander’s lips grew. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here or I would’ve met you.”

“It’s okay,” Robbe said, smiling at him. “I managed to find you all by myself.” Sander chuckled sheepishly. “Did you just feel like star-gazing tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Sander replied, shrugging as he turned to Robbe. “Since I had to close up tonight, I thought I would come out and watch the stars a little before bed. Plus, if I went back to my apartment, it would be too quiet anyway. Noor’s in the Netherlands visiting family and, well—you know where Senne is.”

“How did you even find this place?” Robbe asked. 

“In high school, I used to sneak out and roam the city,” Sander said shyly. “When I wasn’t in a good place, it always brought me comfort. I would search the city for graffiti art and document it all. It’s how I found this place and over a dozen more coves of hidden artistic treasures around the city.” Sander smiled, returning his eyes back to the water. “But this place has been my favorite. There’s not a lot of lights to block out the stars and it’s peaceful this time of night because not a lot of people live here.”

“Yeah,” Robbe said, barely a whisper. Sander glanced over at him and Robbe felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment for being caught staring. Even as a bright smile formed over Sander’s lips, Robbe found himself unable to look as his cheeks flushed brighter. “It does seem quite peaceful here.” 

Sander chuckled before turning back to the stars above him. 

Unable to keep still, Robbe turned to take in their surroundings. He had been so focused on finding Sander that he hadn’t taken in their surroundings. In addition, he knew that if he didn’t keep his eyes off Sander, he would fall into the same daze of staring until he was caught again. Though Robbe had a feeling that Sander didn’t mind him staring a little too long. In fact, he was certain that Sander enjoyed it. 

The warehouse behind them was simple, with a large deep blue door. He had seen it many times before, of course, because his normal skatepark was on the other side of the river. But, the warehouse next to it—the one a little further back and hidden—was the one that caught his attention. For a second, he thought it was the trick of the light—or the shadows—but he realized there was something on the wall, harshly obscured due to the lack of light. 

“What is that?” Robbe asked.

Sander turned to him. “Huh?” 

Unable to answer his question, Robbe rose to his feet. He moved away from Sander, who shuffled somewhere behind him. As he got closer to the building, he pulled his phone out and turned on his flashlight. Once the light was on and he reached the side of the building, he directed his phone toward it and gasped. 

It was a mural. 

In a large oblique circle located in the center of the brick wall, there was a depiction of a tumultuous ocean. The waves were large and massive, looking like they would crash into each other in a second’s notice. Above the ocean were deep gray clouds, pouring heaps of rain onto the ocean below. The mural took up half of the building wall and Robbe couldn’t stop staring at it, shining his light over every piece of the mural, not wanting to miss a piece. 

There was the shuffling of boots behind him, but Robbe didn’t have to look to know that Sander was right behind him. “Do you like it?” Sander asked. 

There was something lingering in his voice that Robbe didn’t pinpoint. Pausing, Robbe turned to Sander, who was moving toward him with cautious steps, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He turned back to the mural in front of him, his eyes searching the dark blue paint and its torrential rain and overwhelming ocean waves. “I love it.” 

“Really?” Sander asked. 

The artist was closer to Robbe now. He could feel the warm presence Sander radiated, just out of his reach. Robbe’s head spun out of control, twisting and churning like the depiction of the downpour in front of him. Despite the fact that his heart might leap out of his chest if he talked, Robbe said, “Yes.” 

Sander let out a breath before he said, “I’m happy to hear it.” His breath brushed against the shell of Robbe’s ear and he shivered at the feeling of him so close. Sander’s tattooed arm appeared over his shoulder and his right hand grasped Robbe’s hand, which held his phone. His hand was larger and all encompassing, and warmth flooded through his body unexpectedly. Gently, Sander moved his hand so the phone’s light was shining directly below the mural.

In the center of the light beam, there was a prominent black lightning bolt, outlined with a thin line of white along its right side. On its left, there was an almost unintelligible  _ S _ and a similar-looking  _ D  _ was on its right. A realization clicked in Robbe’s head as he stared at the tag. Sander dropped his hand from around Robbe’s, his thumb swiping across his knuckles, and Robbe felt a small smile tugging up the corners of his lips. “You painted this.”

“Yeah,” Sander said. “One night, a few months ago, I couldn’t sleep no matter how hard I tried so I snuck out and came here with a bag full of spray paint. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I had found a ladder that someone left and I started working. Once sunlight hit and Senne realized I was gone, he found me high on the ladder with spray paint covering my hands and exhausted. When he asked me what it meant, I couldn’t explain. It was just how I felt.”

“I get that.” 

Turning away from the mural, Robbe turned to Sander. He had underestimated how close Sander had gotten and the realization had knocked all of the wind out of his lungs. Sander was standing within reach, less than, with his hands buried deep in his pockets. His green eyes, which stood out from the dark shadows surrounding them, were focused solely on him and Robbe was positive that he looked like a gaping fish. 

It felt like Wednesday all over again, green eyes searching brown ones in the darkness of the night sky. This time, Robbe was the one who purposely dropped his gaze to Sander’s lips and the artist immediately let out a shaky breath. He glanced back up at Sander, who had a vulnerable but determined look in his eyes, as their eyes locked together again.

Sander took a step closer. 

With each agonizing second that Sander leaned closer, Robbe could feel his emotions churning in his stomach like waves. They crashed against his skin, drowning him, and they collided in his skull threatening to explode. His stomach was a fit of nerves and anticipation of what might come next—of what  _ was _ coming next—of how much he  _ wanted  _ it to happen with every nerve and atom that existed in his body. 

As their noses brushed together—as Robbe’s eyes fluttered close, as Sander’s warm hand cradled his jaw, as Robbe gripped onto his bicep—the waves slowed to a stop, leaving only one thought in their wake as their lips grazed against each other:  _ I want this _ . 

If the wait was like drowning, the kiss itself was like breaking the surface of the water and taking a breath of fresh air. Sander’s large, warm hands cradled his jaw. In Sander’s gentle grip, Robbe felt like he was something precious. Sander’s lips pressed against his own, barely there, gentle and sweet. Robbe felt like his head was spinning, his senses filled with the smell of Sander’s intoxicating cologne. Even with his senses thrown into overdrive, Robbe felt like it wasn’t enough—he wanted Sander even closer. 

Sander pulled away, letting out a breath that ghosted across Robbe’s face, and he opened his eyes to look at him. 

A beautiful smile was on Sander’s face and it was directed at him. It was by far the widest that Robbe had ever seen him smile and it looked like it could’ve split Sander’s face into two. It made him look like a piece of artwork or a moment snapped in time. And it was absolutely infectious. Robbe’s own lips pulled up in a smile as he stared at him. Robbe’s cheeks ached and he knew that his dimples were likely out. No matter how much it hurt, Robbe didn’t want to stop smiling and he didn’t think that he was capable of doing so.

“Fuck,” Sander said. His thumbs dragged across his cheekbones, dipping a little at the dimples on the edges of his lips, before tracing the path all over again. One of his hands moved back into the hair at the nap of Robbe’s neck, holding him there, tugging at the strands of his hair. Then, he whispered, a confession for Robbe and Robbe only, “You’re so beautiful.” 

“So are you,” Robbe whispered back.

Robbe surged up toward him. He stood on his toes to kiss him again—to kiss him a third time, to kiss him as many times as Sander would want to. Sander was there, holding onto him tightly, ready to catch him, and met his kiss with eager force.

Their first kiss had been sweet and short. It was like they were testing the waters. But this kiss was hungry and desperate, like they couldn’t get close enough to satisfy their increasing desire. There wasn’t enough time in the world, so Sander kissed him with everything he had as Robbe tried to pull Sander closer and closer, until there was no room in between them. Their lips moved in an uncoordinated fashion, half reacting to the other, as they tried to learn their lips. Robbe tried to memorize this moment with Sander’s fingers in his hair and Robbe clinging to the black fabric of his t-shirt desperately. 

Sander’s kiss slowed a little, but not enough to separate. Then, he moved, taking one step and another, and Robbe tilted along with him, clinging desperately to his shoulders. But, Robbe couldn’t help it and he didn’t think Sander minded. He did not want to separate from the softness of Sander’s lips or the eagerness of his kiss. Sander’s hand was tight on his hip, guiding him on where he wanted him to go, before Robbe felt his back press against the wall—the wall with the mural—while Sander’s returned his kiss in full force. 

Sander leaned further against Robbe, nearly putting all of his weight on him. His hand tugged on the strands of Robbe’s hair and kissed him harder and faster. Robbe let out a sigh and tried to match Sander’s overwhelming, intoxicating intensity. He arched into the kiss before wrapping one arm around Sander’s shoulder. He tugged Sander closer and Sander came willingly, stepping forward and crowding Robbe against the wall. Robbe dug his fingers into the blond strands of his hair and Sander sighed between their lips.

They broke the kiss, panting into each other’s mouth, trying to regain their breath. They were quiet and still, simply holding onto each other and relishing in each other’s presence. Then a giggle escaped from Robbe’s mouth and Sander let out a laugh before moving to close the distance again. Their lips slotted together like they had never separated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are gold and chocolate <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Zaterdag 9:31**

Robbe was used to waking up alone.

It had become something he was well-accustomed to. He missed the feeling of waking up with two arms around his waist and of holding someone to his chest. He was used to groggily waking up, slowly and surely becoming aware of his surroundings, turning over and stretching with eyes shut, the silent reprieve and internal pleading of ‘five more minutes’ of sleep that would certainly turn into two more hours. Some mornings, he woke up without a fuss, immediate and alert. Other mornings, he never slept.

However, this morning, he woke up slowly like the drowsiness was slowly and ineffectively wrung out of his body. His dream—whatever it might have been—vanished from his mind like smoke in the air. Robbe stretched against the silkiness of the sheets and the plushness of the mattress before whatever fight to get up and start the day vanished like a light and he collapsed against it again. There was something in his arms, soft and full, but Robbe’s tired brain knew right away that it was one of his pillows that he had grabbed overnight. Turning over, he pulled the sheets higher on his shoulders and snuggled into a pillow that smelled like Sander’s cologne.

Sander. 

Wait. What was Sander’s cologne doing in his bedroom?

Even as sleep sang its gentle siren song, trying to will him back to sleep, Robbe forced his eyes open. 

Immediately, Robbe spotted the navy blue sheets that were twisted around his legs and his waist, keeping him warm and comfortable. Next, he found the nightstand next to his bed with his phone and his watch sitting on the corner. When he checked, he saw the number of notifications, but his brain was still taking in the sights around him. Lastly, Robbe spotted the black joggers and the black t-shirt with a white building that he was wearing. Both articles of clothing weren’t his own. 

And, like that, his brain woke up with a snap and his memories of last night returned to him in full force. 

He remembered finding Sander looking up at the stars behind the warehouses—spotting the ocean mural hidden in the shadows, the ocean mural that Sander had created, the one that Sander was nervous to show him. He remembered the kiss that melted his thoughts, curled his toes, and surged new life through his body. He remembered how they kissed against the wall until their lips were red and bruised and the rain started falling. He remembered how they fled for shelter, giggling and laughing and unable to stop touching each other on the bike ride to Sander’s apartment, which was closest to the warehouses. 

Despite the gentle rain, they had somehow ended up soaked by the time they reached the fancy apartment complex. As soon as they arrived, Sander had wasted no time in hunting down clothes for Robbe to wear. Once all of their soaked clothes had been thrown into the dryer, Sander was dragging him into a bedroom. It was dark and Robbe wasn’t focused on the details of the room as they laid on Sander’s bed. 

As they waited for their clothes to dry, facing each other with their hands intertwined, Sander told him about how his mother used to make croques on weekend mornings. While Sander traced featherlight patterns on the back of his hand, Robbe told him about how his mama created an annual Valentine’s Day movie marathon because she didn’t like celebrating it anymore. Sander learned that his mother was incredibly partial to discovering all of the ways to make vegetarian dishes for Zoë. Robbe found out that Sander’s mother loved sunflowers more than anything. 

While the dryer had continued and their yawns increased, the two of them had traded stories, whispers, and kisses. He wondered which one of them would fall asleep first or if they would both be up all night, unable to stop talking to one another. Of the two of them, Robbe had been the first one to be lulled to sleep while Sander traced the outline of his face with his ringed finger.

Sitting up, Robbe glanced around the room, taking it all in now that he wasn’t focused on Sander. 

The bedroom was larger than Robbe’s bedroom. The bed itself was at least a queen-size and there seemed to be more room than his room at the flatshare. Overall, the bedroom seemed immaculate. There was hardly any laundry on the floor or trash on the nightstand. Across from the bed, there was a large wooden dresser with a record player resting next to a Bluetooth speaker and a television mounted on the wall. There was a large, spacious window on the other side of the room, but it was covered by gray curtains to protect the room from the morning sun. 

Beneath the window, there was an artist’s table that was the messiest place in the room. There were three mason jars filled with a variety of paintbrushes, bristles up, and a sketch pad with an empty page resting on top. Beside it, there was a bookshelf filled with art supplies and what looked to be different kinds of paints, sketchbooks, and canvases. On the other side of the desk, there was an easel standing on a tarp with paint splattered across the wood and a leather jacket hanging off the back. 

But the walls quickly drew Robbe’s attention. The walls themselves were painted with a light cream color. There were a handful of David Bowie posters hung on them. But the rest was  _ covered  _ by what Robbe assumed to be Sander’s creations. Everywhere Robbe looked, there was something new to look at and absorb—sketches, paintings, photos—all hung up by a thumbtack or a string of tape.

Robbe tossed the sheets aside and climbed to his feet. He moved around the room, looking over each of the sketches and photos in turn. Near the nightstand, he found a photo of Senne with Sander and Amber at Christmas time. There was a sketch of a park and another of the night sky. Robbe found half a dozen professional-looking photos from around Antwerp stuck on the walls. There was a photo where Noor was used as a model, one with Senne, and another with both of them. Hidden amongst them all, he had even spotted one or two sketches of him.

In the midst of the realistic sketches of friends and people he didn’t know, Robbe also found a handful that looked like creatures from a cartoon. Some of them were paired with a similar-looking figure that looked like a video game character. Near the desk, he spotted a great bird on one of the sketches. It was standing with its wings folded beside him. But his dark feathers looked sharper than normal. It looked like it was wrapped in armor. 

Curious, Robbe grabbed his phone from the nightstand and typed “armored bird” in the search engine. Even as his phone pinged with notifications, he ignored them all. Flipping over to the images, Robbe scrolled past the Assassin’s Creed and photos that initially popped up. Thankfully, he didn’t need to scroll something before he found a photo with the creature that he was looking for. The photo didn’t seem to have been drawn by Sander, but Robbe could tell that it was the same creature:  _ Corviknight _ . 

As Robbe moved to search for the word, the bedroom door opened behind him. There was a gentle patter of footsteps before two arms circled around his waist and pulled Robbe back against him. Sander placed a kiss against his clothed shoulder. “I thought I heard you shuffling around in here.” Robbe leaned over to press a kiss against his temple before returning to his abandoned search. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to figure out what this is,” Robbe said, pointing at the sketch with the bird— _ Corviknight _ . 

“It’s a Pokémon called Corviknight,” Sander said matter-of-factly. “It’s one of the Pokémon from the newest generation of their games.” Robbe bit down at his lip, staring at the sketch in question. Sander shifted against him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and placing a kiss against his cheek. “Have you never played Pokémon, Robbe?” 

“I have played,” Robbe said. “Just not recently. I played back in primary school. But I haven’t played it in years.” Sander nodded, snuggling closer into the crook of his neck. Robbe glanced at him, curious, and asked, “Do you play it?”

“Yeah, I’ve always gotten the games as soon as they were released,” Sander said, his breath brushing across the skin of his neck. Sander smiled, a small sad smile that Robbe felt against his shoulder. “After school, my little sister and I would play it all the time. She loved to play pretend and be a Pokémon trainer with all the cutest Pokémon.” 

Robbe nodded, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “Will you teach me how to play?” 

Sander glanced at him, his green eyes wide in confusion. But soon, the corners of his lips tugged up in corners in a bright, dazzling smile. “Really? You want to learn how to play?” 

Robbe nodded. 

Sander’s smile brightened further before he ducked down to press their lips together. Sander’s hands cradled his jaw and Robbe turned so he could wrap his arms around his neck. This kiss was more like the ones once they had reached the apartment, laying together in the bed and exchanging stories. It was sweet, simple, and overwhelmingly chaste, but Robbe didn’t mind at all. He loved the sweet, chaste kisses as much as he loved the passionate ones that ended up with him out of breath and pinned against a wall. 

Almost too soon, Sander pulled away, looking down at him over the tip of his nose as his lips curled into a bright smirk. “Later,” he said. “Right now, we’re going to have breakfast and then we’re going to lay in bed all day.”

“I can’t do all day,” Robbe said shyly. While the thought of laying in bed with Sander all day and night sounded amazing, Robbe knew that he promised a stream for this afternoon. He could always cancel the stream or move it tomorrow, but he had moved enough streams. Plus, he was supposed to be studying with Yasmina at the library for their remaining exams. “But I can lay in bed all morning and afternoon until 14:00. If that’s alright with you.”

“14:00,” Sander mumbled, his breath ghosting against his face. There was a part of Robbe that wondered if Sander was going to ask what plans he had. But Sander simply smiled down at him and said, “Laying in bed until any time is alright with me, Robin. I’m sure that you have to study your beautiful brain out for your remaining tests.” 

Robbe flushed at the compliment, thankful that Sander didn’t ask.

Sander seized Robbe’s face rather abruptly. He placed a peck against Robbe’s lips, fleeting and quick. Then, he repeated the motion before moving on to his jaw, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, and all over his face until Robbe was left squirming under his lips. Then, Sander returned to his original destination, giving him a long kiss that made Robbe’s knees melt, before he pulled Robbe off his feet—literally. As Robbe latched onto his waist and shoulders with a vice grip, Sander was moving out of the room, taking Robbe with him. “Come on, I made pancakes.”

Robbe leaned back and beamed down at him. “You left me alone in bed to make pancakes?”

“Yes,” Sander said, sounding almost sheepish as he grinned. “I didn’t want you to wake up with an empty stomach and no food to eat!” Robbe smiled, leaning down to kiss Sander. He paused in the middle of the hallway, putting all of his focus on kissing Robbe back. Then, as soon as the kiss broke and Robbe hovered over his lips, Sander was moving again, holding Robbe a little higher on his waist, and walking like he never stopped. “It’s not very nice to not have food for such a treasured guest.”

* * *

**Zondag 10:21**

“Good morning.” 

In response, Robbe yawned loudly, stretching as he headed to the coffee machine. Milan was sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a peach-colored shirt and a pair of jeans. His laptop was open in front of him and he had his own cup of coffee in his hands. Robbe returned his greeting with a nod before turning to make a cup of coffee. As the coffee machine whirred loudly, filling the small kitchen with the smell of brewed coffee, Robbe could feel Milan’s eyes staring a hole in his back. “Good morning to you too, Milan.” 

“You look well-rested,” Milan noted. 

Robbe shrugged. He put milk and sugar into his coffee and stirred the mixture. “To be honest, I didn’t get much sleep.” When Robbe had laid down, it was surprisingly difficult to sleep in his own bed, wearing his own clothes. There was no lingering smell of Sander beside him or of his cologne on the pillow. Robbe was frighteningly hyper-aware of the absence and it had taken him longer to fall asleep. He turned to Milan, who glanced up. He shifted his computer to the side as Robbe sat down across from him. “But there’s only one week left, two more exams, and then it’s officially summer.”

“You’ve got a few more days before you’re free.”

“Not close enough.”

“Just take it one day at a time and focus on your tests,” Milan said, reaching over to pat his hand. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Then, once all your exams are done, you can go hang out with your mystery, romantic suitor without having to worry about your exams. Or did you go somewhere else Friday night?”

Robbe glared at his friend.

“What?” Milan asked, feigning innocence with a shrug. “When I knocked on your bedroom door and didn’t hear you telling me to fuck off, I saw that your bed was empty. Zoënne said that you left late on Friday night and then you didn’t show up until past the normal time of your stream. You can’t tell me that this isn’t connected to the mystery guy you almost kissed.” 

Robbe raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Does it physically pain you when you don’t get into people’s business and analyze their personal life?”

“Only when we both know that I’m right,” Milan said, sounding like he had just struck gold. “Come on, Robbe. You know that you can talk to me about this.” There was a serious look on his face as he leaned across the table and said lowly, “At the very least, please let me know that you’re being safe. Protection will always be your best friend and you should use it until both of you get tested.”

“Fuck, Milan,” Robbe said, laughing.

“What? I’m just trying to make sure you’re being safe! It’s the only thing that I—as your self-appointed guru—should be asking of you.” 

“And yet, here you are asking for every detail about what may or may not have happened,” Robbe said. Milan looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Robbe groaned and took a sip of his quickly-cooling coffee. “Whatever, we didn’t have sex, okay? Give it a rest.” 

“Well, when you do, you better make sure to use protection—”

“For fuck’s sake, yes, Milan, I promise—”

“What’s this about using protection?” Zoë asked, stepping into the kitchen. She was dressed in a pair of shorts, Senne’s black hoodie, and her hair pulled up in a small ponytail. Senne was right on her heels, glancing at them and nodding in greeting as Zoë opened the fridge, staring into it like she was analyzing all of the options. “Milan, everyone doesn’t need three lectures on the importance of protection.” 

“As the oldest one here, I have to take care of my ducklings,” Milan said. 

“It just sounds like you’re being nosy again.”

“Thank you, Zoë.”

“You’re welcome,” Zoë said, pulling out one of her containers. Milan turned back to his computer, shooting him a ‘we will talk later’ look and Robbe made sure to obviously roll his eyes. “Robbe, how’s Mama?” 

“I haven’t heard from her since Friday,” Robbe said. “She called right before my stream so we could only talk for a few minutes. She sounded good. Apparently, there was something that happened at her work that she can’t really talk about right now. But, she said that she’s handling it well and will talk about it when she’s ready.” Robbe glanced at Senne, who was messing around on his phone, before returning his gaze to Zoë. “Did you still want to do—”

“Yes,” Zoë said, letting out a breath. “But, just not this Thursday. I took up your time with Mama this last Thursday and I don’t want to again.” Robbe wanted to interrupt, but Zoë kept going. “Do you think that next Thursday would be okay? Plus it would allow her rest with everything going on at work.”

Robbe nodded. He stood up and pressed a kiss against Zoë’s cheek before he moved to leave the kitchen. “I’m fine with it. Plus, Zoë, you know that Mama loves it when you come over. If you came over every week, she would be so excited. Plus, she would probably ease up about you keeping an eye out for me.” Zoë shook her head and shoved him away. “What? She misses you and I’m right. Maybe if your boyfriend would stop stealing you, you’d be able to come around more often.” 

“I promise not to steal her as much in the future,” Senne said, smirking. “But what about you, Robbe? Are you seeing anyone?”

Trying to fight the smile growing on his face at the thought of Sander—and if Sander talked with Senne about it—Robbe rolled his eyes, groaned, and said, “Don’t get Milan started.” As Robbe moved in the direction of his bedroom, he could hear Senne questioning in the background and Zoë reassuring him. But all Robbe could think about was Sander and his Bio notes.

* * *

**Zondag 19:21**

Sander

21 June, 19:21

Sander:  _ Hey, I think you left your watch over here. _

Robbe:  _ Did I? _

Sander:  _ Yeah, it was sitting in the bathroom. _ _  
_ _ I think you might’ve taken it off when you took a shower.  _

Robbe:  _ Shit. _ _  
_ _ I don’t need it, but thanks for letting me know. _

Sander:  _ I’ll keep it safe in my bedroom. _ _  
_ _ And I’ll give it to you the next time I see you. _

Robbe:  _ Like when? Tomorrow? _

Sander:  _ No, probably not until later in the week. _

Robbe:  _ Aww, why? _ 🥺

Sander:  _ Because you’ve got an important test coming up. _ _  
_ _ And if we meet up, you won’t get any work done. _

Robbe:  _ I’ll behave. _

Sander:  _ I won’t. That’s the problem. _ _  
_ _ You’re irresistible. _ _  
_ _ If we meet up, I won’t be able to stop kissing you. _

Robbe:  _ Sander  _ 🥺   
_ You expect me to wait until Friday to see you again? _

Sander:  _ No, of course not. _ _  
_ _ I’ll come over after your first test and we can hang out for a few hours. _ _  
_ _ I’d offer to bring you here, but that’s Noor’s day off. _ _  
_ _ And she is insistent about me being out of the apartment. _

Robbe:  _ What time? _

Sander:  _ My shift ends at 16:00 _ _  
_ _ I can come over after? _ _  
_ _ And I’ll bring the watch with me. _ _  
_ _ Because that’s all you want ;) _

Robbe:  _ Sounds great. _ _  
_ _ And I’m perfectly fine if you accidentally leave it at home. _ _  
_ _ I just want to see you again. _ _  
_ _ Plus the battery is dead so. _

Sander:  _ Still. I’ll make sure to bring it. _ _  
_ _ But I might forget it at home. _ _  
_ _ So I have an excuse to get you out of the house again. _

Robbe:  _ I feel like wanting to kiss you again is a good excuse. _ _  
_ _ But that just might be me. _

Sander:  _ Okay, that’s a good one. _ _  
_ _ Maybe I won’t have to forget it. _

Robbe:  _ And I’m feeling lonely. _ _  
_ _ And I really want to kiss you. _ _  
_ _ Are you sure we can’t meet up? _

Sander:  _ Don’t tempt me. _ _  
_ _ I won’t be the reason that you don’t study and get a bad grade.  _

Robbe:  _ Fineeeeeee _ _  
_ _ Just make sure to text me in the meantime? _

Sander:  _ Ohhhhh, what do you want me to text? _

* * *

**Maandag 15:10**

Lucas

22 June, 14:48

Lucas:  _ Stay away from the apartment. _

Robbe:  _ What? _ _  
_ _ Are you and Jens seriously going to have sex now? _ _  
_ _ It’s 14:00 on a Monday.  _ _  
_ _ I have a stream soon. _ _  
_ _ And we have tests! _

Lucas:  _ I know. _ _  
_ _ Do you trust me? _

Robbe:  _ What kind of question is that? _ _  
_ _ Of course, I do. _

Lucas:  _ Then stay away from the apartment. _ _  
_ _ I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come back. _

Robbe:  _ Okay. _ _  
_ _ Just promise me you’ll explain later. _

22 June, 15:10

Lucas:  _ It’s safe. _

Robbe:  _ Explain when I get there? _

Lucas:  _ Of course. _

Robbe:  _ On my way. _

* * *

**Maandag 15:23**

From the moment that Robbe got Lucas’s text message, his stomach was a nervous wreck. 

As soon as Lucas’s initial message had come through, Robbe was unlocking his bike outside his lecture hall in an attempt to flee to the flatshare, because his typical start for streams was 15:00. When he had initially made his increased streaming schedule, he hadn’t intended to cut it this close. But his professor had hosted a review session for their test and Robbe wanted to stay to get some extra study time. He had sent out a tweet about being late, but Lucas’s text had pushed it back further.

As he waited impatiently for Lucas’s ‘safe’ text to come through, Robbe went back in the building and pulled out his notes. Even though he was flipping through them, he could barely read what his own handwriting said. Or, rather, he wasn’t really registering it. His eyes glossed over the words as his mind went into a frenzy. His brain was focused on one thing: figuring out what was so devastating that Lucas would send him a text message telling him to stay away from the flatshare without an explanation. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t much longer until Lucas sent him another message. Immediately, Robbe collected his things and rushed home. 

By the time he made it into the lobby, his thighs were incredibly sore and he was out of breath. But he didn’t care as he frantically hit the ‘up’ button. The elevator rose a little too slowly for him and felt like it grew slower by the second. Tapping his fingers against the elevator door only seemed to make time slow down even further. As soon as the elevator reached the fifth floor, Robbe was already at the doors, sliding through them as soon as they were open wide enough. 

Down the hallway, the door to the flatshare swung open. Robbe felt his chest seize up. Did he get home too quickly and would accidentally end up running into the person that Lucas was helping him avoid? However, his chest unclenched as Lucas stepped out into the hallway, holding the door open with his foot. Robbe sprinted to him and his mind started racing with the pre-stream checklist that he would likely have to rush through. As he passed Lucas into the foyer of the apartment, he could sense the tension in Lucas’s shoulders and his own tensed in response. 

As soon as he stepped inside, his feet took him to his bedroom. With inelegant ease, he kicked off his shoes and tossed his backpack onto the bed, not worrying about the fact that his notebooks tipped out of the half-unzipped backpack. His room was still as messy as he had left it this morning. The mess always bothered him while streaming, but there was nothing that he could do about it today. He moved to his desk chair, practically sliding into his chair, and placed one of the earphones over his ear. 

As Robbe hurried through his pre-stream checklist, he glanced at Lucas. Through the open door to the hallway, he could see him closing the front door and making sure to click it shut. Once it was, he turned around and marched directly into Robbe’s bedroom. There was a serious and somewhat annoyed look on his face, which made Robbe pause slightly. 

But, it was Lucas closing the door to the hallway that set off every trigger for the alarms in Robbe’s head. 

It signaled the impending explosion in his head, capable of leveling a city block. Maybe two. Robbe’s jaw set into place and his hand paused on the back of the mouse. The haste that he had to start the stream skidded to a halt and he found himself waiting for whatever news Lucas was going to drop. He knew something was wrong. “What’s going on, Luc?”

Lucas crossed his arms over his chest. “Thomas stopped by.” 

Robbe blinked. He waited for several seconds—waited for Jens to jump out with a video camera in hand and yell ‘Pranked!’ at the top of their lungs, or Moyo, or  _ someone _ , and they would laugh it all out—but it never happened. Standing in front of him with his arms crossed, Lucas looked frighteningly serious. An unsettled feeling stirred in Robbe’s stomach and briefly rekindled the anger from last Wednesday. This news wasn’t a prank. “What?” 

“Yeah,” Lucas said. “He said that he was looking for you.”

“Is this about that stupid watch again? I swear to God—”

“I don’t know,” Lucas said, cutting him off. Robbe let out a disgruntled breath and moved back to check the sound on the microphone. “In all honesty, he simply hung around in the kitchen waiting for you. He said that it was ‘important’ and ‘urgent’ that he spoke to you right now, but you weren’t answering any of his messages so he came to see if you were home. I told him that I would text you.” Robbe nodded and Lucas stepped toward him, leaning against his desk. “But, apparently, he must have taken a late lunch because he only stayed for about twenty minutes. As soon as he found out Jens was studying in my room, he got really nervous.”

“Why?” 

“Probably because he knows that Jens doesn’t like him—that he never did,” Lucas said. 

Robbe paused, glancing over at Lucas. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”

“No, Jens was taking a nap when I heard him knock on the door and he was still asleep the last time I checked on him,” Lucas said. Robbe let out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. He glanced at Robbe’s bedroom door and let out a sigh, his shoulders deflating a little. Lucas turned back to Robbe and took a step closer. “Since he has a test tomorrow, I didn’t feel like bailing him out of jail or quizzing him on flashcards through the cell doors. I’ll tell him after his test on Thursday.” 

“Yeah,” Robbe said. “That’s probably a good idea.” Pausing, he shifted the levels on the microphone before testing again. “Thanks for looking out for me, Lucas.”

“You’re welcome.”

Robbe expected Lucas to leave. He expected to hear Lucas patter out of his room and in the direction of his own. Jens had always been a heavy sleeper. It was the only reason he could’ve possibly slept through the obnoxious ring of their doorbell. But Lucas stayed in front of him, shifting from one foot to the other. “What is it, Lucas?” 

Thankfully, Lucas had always been blunt. “Do you want to get back together with Thomas?” 

There was a clear answer to that question. 

If Lucas had asked him a few weeks ago, the answer would’ve been a tentative ‘yes,’ because he did want to get back together with him. Even now, Robbe wondered why he would’ve thought so. Did he actually miss Thomas, the kind-hearted, loving boyfriend he had fond memories of, or did he simply miss Thomas as a constant in his life? To be honest, Robbe wasn’t for sure. But, he knew that it was a question that needed to be asked. Milan knew—or at least had an idea—that he was seeing or interested in Sander. The others just knew he met someone. 

Since Robbe had gotten to know Sander—the real Sander, not the memory of a random (hot) man outside a bar—he reminded Robbe of what it meant to be cherished and appreciated. It was in every movement he made and in every text he sent. If Robbe was studying, Sander didn’t spam him with text messages, trying to goad him into responding back. Since their kiss on Friday night, every single touch had been filled with warmth and comfort. It wasn’t simply reserved for his kisses. It was in how he touched Robbe’s shoulder, pushed him gently toward the shower, kissed his shoulder, ran a hand through his hair, and carried him around the apartment. 

Sander reminded him of what Thomas had lost, which is why the clear answer was: “No.” 

Lucas’s response was immediate and blunt with his arms crossed over his chest. “Good, because you deserve better than someone who doesn’t even know how much you were hurting and wouldn’t do anything about it.” On that note, Lucas moved the door to the hallway. Before he stepped out completely, Lucas turned and said, “Have a good stream.”

“Thanks, but one more thing,” Robbe said. Lucas stopped in the door, holding it open with one hand as he peered down the hallway. “If you and Jens end up having sex, try to keep it down a little, please. Your bedroom may be on the opposite end of the apartment, but this is a sensitive microphone and it’s picked up on one of you before. Thankfully, I was just testing it out with a video that I never uploaded. I do have some younger viewers that watch me. I’d rather not have to give an impromptu gay sex ed lecture on my live stream and get banned for inappropriate content.” 

Lucas laughed, rolling his eyes. “If it does end up happening, we’ll try. But I doubt that it will end up happening. The only way we’re going to is if Jens gets through his review for the second time which I’m making him do. Considering the fact he fell asleep on number two, I don’t think that we’ll get that far.” 

Robbe knew better than to doubt Jens on his ability to get something he wanted, but thankfully, the two of them waited to start anything until after his stream ended.

* * *

**Dinsdag 20:41**

Sander

Robbe:  _ Are we still meeting up tomorrow? _

Sander:  _ I don’t know, I think I have to reschedule. _

Robbe:  _ Sanderrrrrr _ _  
_ _ You promised. _

Sander:  _ I’m kidding, Robin. _ _  
_ _ Of course, we’re meeting up tomorrow.  _ _  
_ _ I can’t wait to see you again.  _ _  
_ _ It’s been hell staying away from you. _

Robbe:  _ You say that like it’s my fault. _ _  
_ _ You’re the one insisting that we shouldn’t see each other. _ _  
_ _ Because you won’t be able to keep your hands off me. _

Sander:  _ I mean, have you seen yourself in the mirror, Robbe? _

Robbe:  _ Yes, I have. _ _  
_ _ I don’t know what you see. _ _  
_ _ But I’m very glad that you do. _

Sander:  _ Well, maybe I’ll just have to show you. _

Robbe:  _ So what time are you coming over? _ _  
_ _ After your shift at 16:00? _

Sander:  _ Yes, and I’m sure I will have lots of tales from work. _ _  
_ _ If you want to hear me rant and rave about them. _

Robbe: _ Go right ahead. _ _  
_ _ We’ll have the apartment to ourselves. _

Sander:  _ Oh, will we?  _ _  
_ _ You didn’t kick anyone out, did you? _ _  
_ _ Too embarrassed to be seen with me? _

Robbe:  _ No, it just happened like that, I swear. _ _  
_ _ Milan works, Zoë’s meeting the girls, and Luc is going to Jens’. _ _  
_ _ And, for the record, I would be the one being embarrassed. _ _  
_ _ Milan would introduce himself as my guru and Lucas would probably tell you embarrassing stories. _

Sander:  _ Maybe you should tell them to me first. _

Robbe:  _ Maybe I will. _ _  
_ _ What do you want for dinner tomorrow? _

Sander:  _ You pick. _

Robbe:  _ You have a lot of faith in me. _

Sander:  _ Well, if you make me sick, you’ll have to nurse me back to health. _ _  
_ _ And I would be fine with either scenario. _ _  
_ _ Because it means more time with you <3 _

Robbe:  _ You’re such a nerd. _

Sander: _Thank you. Yes,_ _I am._ _  
__I stayed up later last night to play the Pokémon DLC._ _  
__I have no regrets._

Robbe:  _ I miss you so much. _ _  
_ _ Are you sure we can’t meet up? _

Sander:  _ In 24 hours? Yes. _ _  
_ _ It’ll be okay.  _ _  
_ _ I promise that I’ll make it up to you. _

Robbe:  _ You better. _

* * *

**Woensdag 16:36**

On a normal Wednesday, Robbe would haul through the last hour of his afternoon stream. He would be starting to feel the lingering exhaustion that came with sitting in a chair for nearly three hours straight. His throat would get progressively drier. His shoulders would be tense and his phone would be filled with notifications from friends, viewers, or games. But, despite it all, he would still be having a good time with his viewers and his friends as he winded down from the streaming high.

This Wednesday felt different. 

Well, this Wednesday  _ was  _ different. For starters, he wasn’t streaming. Robbe had announced last week that all of his streams this week were tentative. With only one more week of exams remaining, he wanted to have more study time in case he needed it. Today, he had gone one step further and canceled today’s stream. But that wasn’t why this Wednesday was different. It was different because Sander was coming over. 

Even though Robbe had been eagerly awaiting this all week, internally counting down the days and hours until he would see Sander again, it didn’t fully hit him. It didn’t hit him that it was  _ today _ until he stepped into the library coffee shop with Yasmina, ready to compare answers until they were sure that their exam went well. As soon as Robbe’s phone turned on, Sander’s ‘good luck!’ text showed up on his screen and it hit him. Sander would be at his apartment in a matter of hours. 

Once Robbe got home, he barely managed forty-five minutes of studying in the silence of the flatshare. His concentration was shot and all his mind could think about was something else. So he set about picking up the clothes off his bedroom floor and the trash off his nightstand and desk. He even straightened the sheets on his bed and arranged the pillows. 

When Robbe ran out of things to straighten in his room, he moved to the kitchen. With haste, he pulled a pan and bread out of the cabinet. As he made the sandwiches, his eyes watched the clock and counted down the minutes until Sander would knock on the door. As Robbe placed the fourth and final sandwich on his plate, he heard the sound of the buzzer. 

Turning off the burner, Robbe shot to the door and buzzed Sander in. 

Returning to the kitchen, Robbe grabbed the plate of sandwiches from the counter. In quick and spastic movements, he moved down the hallway, nearly running into the doorframe of his bedroom. Somehow, he managed to keep the plate stabilized without dumping his freshly-made sandwiches on the floor. Once he deposited the plate onto his bed, Robbe moved to the front door, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other. As soon as there was a knock on the door, Robbe seized hold of the door knob and yanked the door open. 

And there was Sander. 

Immediately, Sander stepped into the foyer, leaning down to press a featherlight kiss against Robbe’s lips. It was quick and light as Sander stepped into the apartment and placed his dark green duffel bag on one of the empty hooks. Once the front door was closed and his bag was hung, Robbe practically launched himself at Sander, bringing their lips back together. Thankfully, Sander was there to catch him, stumbling only slightly before he regained his balance and seized hold of Robbe’s hips. 

“Robbe,” Sander managed to say between kisses. “I’m all sweaty.” 

Robbe could feel Sander’s flushed skin. Through the fabric of his t-shirt, he could feel the warmth radiating from Sander. At the back of Sander’s neck, he could feel the beads of sweat that his fingertips touched. Robbe didn’t mind feeling the sweat, because everyone sweated—especially in the summer months—but he pulled away, smiling sheepishly up at Sander. “Sorry,” he said, ducking his head. “I just wanted to do that all week.”

“It’s okay.” Sander chuckled, pressing a fleeting kiss against his cheek. “Plus I said that I would make it up to you. Just give me about a few minutes to cool down.” Robbe pouted and Sander relinquished one fleeting kiss before moving toward his duffel bag. “Before I forget,” Sander said.. As he searched, he added over his shoulder, “Because I’m sure it’ll end up happening.” 

Robbe rolled his eyes. Sander turned around and held something out to Robbe. In Sander’s hand, there was a black plastic box. For a second, Robbe was mentally launched back to Christmas, when Thomas handed him a leather watch case with a brand new watch that he never wore. He blinked back into reality as Sander waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you okay? Sorry, I just put it in the casing because it kept falling off.”

“Yeah,” Robbe said, shaking his head. With maybe a little too much haste, he opened the lid and tried to hide his small breath of relief at the sight of the silver watch. He could tell it was his watch, of course. There was a scratch across the glass. On the edge, where the face of the watch met the strap, there was a considerable chip from one of the many times that Robbe accidentally slammed his hand into something. “Sorry, I forgot to warn you. The clasp hasn’t been working as of late.” 

Sander ran a hand through Robbe’s hair, forcing him to look up. “Well, I hope you find that it works fine now.”

“What do you mean?”

Sander smiled. “Look for yourself.” 

Robbe reached in the box, pulling out his watch. Once it was out, Sander moved to place the box back in his bag. Looking at the watch, he didn’t see anything strange about it at first. Each of the pieces seemed to be in its place, but then his eyes caught the movement of the hands. They were moving! Robbe raised his eyes to look at Sander again, who had returned to his side. “Did you get a new battery put into it?”

“Yeah,” Sander admitted sheepishly. “You had mentioned on Sunday that the battery was dead and I know you’ve been really busy lately with school and stuff. There's a watch repair guy next door that is a regular at the parlor.” He took the watch from Robbe’s hand and clasped it around his wrist without trouble. “When he was changing out the battery, he realized the clamp was faulty. He had one similar to it so he changed it out.” 

“Sander, you didn’t have to—”

“I know,” Sander said, interrupting him. “I know how much it means to you and you were going to get a new battery anyway. I just did it for you so you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.” Robbe smiled at him before his eyes returned back to the watch. Sander paused. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“No,” Robbe said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not mad. I promise.” Sander nodded, a look of relief washing over his face. “I just—I guess I’m not used to it is all.” Robbe wrapped his arm around Sander’s neck and stood on his toes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Sander said, barely managing to get it out before their lips slotted together. 

Even though there was still a little sweat on the back of his neck, Sander kissed him softly. As they stood there, in the foyer of the flatshare, his hands ran across Robbe’s back in soothing, sweeping motions. They mapped out Robbe’s entire back, feeling every curve and twist of his muscles, before settling on his hips and pulling him closer. Even as Sander’s tongue edged across his bottom lip, opening up his mouth easily, Robbe could sense Sander’s caring movements in everything he did. 

Sander kissed Robbe like he was something precious, something to be treasured. It was a new feeling that stirred up his insides with an intensity that he hadn’t felt before. Or, if he had, Robbe hadn’t felt it in a while. 

“So,” Sander said, pulling away. Robbe tilted up to stare at him. Sander’s lips were swollen and his cheeks were flushed a light shade of pink. Robbe was certain that he looked the same way, but Sander pulled it off so naturally. Sander caught him looking and Robbe couldn’t find it in himself to care. “What’s for dinner?”

At the mention of food, Robbe remembered the food that he made and his cheeks flushed. “Um, I don’t know if they’ll be any good, but I made croques,” Robbe said. Sander’s eyes widened and he seemed to be rendered momentarily speechless. Nervous, Robbe added, “At breakfast on Saturday, you told me that your mama used to make croques. So I thought that I would try and make them for you.”

Sander blinked before he said, in a small voice, “You did?”

Robbe nodded, standing on his toes to briefly peck Sander’s lips. Taking him by the hand, Robbe pulled Sander further into the flatshare and into his bedroom. Sander’s eyes took it all in before landing on the plate of croques on the edge of the bed. Seeing them made Sander’s eyes light up. 

“Well, I tried to make them as best I could remember from your story,” Robbe said sheepishly. “Plus, they’re room-temperature by now. But if they aren’t right, we can always make some more.” 

Sander shook his head, cutting off Robbe with another gentle kiss. Once he broke the kiss, Sander took a bite of one of the croques in his hand. Standing beside him, Robbe waited patiently for the judge to share his verdict on how good the croque was. To his surprise, Sander’s smile curled up, lighting his face up. After several seconds of anticipation, Sander announced with glee, “Best croque ever, Mr. IJzermans. You get a rating of five stars on Booking.com.”

Then, he held out the sandwich to Robbe, who took a bite of the sandwich.

* * *

**Woensdag 17:03**

Robbe never thought that he would have this—someone to sit in comfortable silence with. 

For the past 30 minutes, the two of them had been simply laying on Robbe’s bed. They had talked about their days, about Robbe’s test, about a crazy request at the tattoo parlor. But the conversation had come to a natural end and neither one of them was too eager to pick it back up. They hadn’t talked; they hadn’t kissed. They simply laid together, wrapped up in each other’s embrace. Despite the prolonged silence between them, Robbe had never felt more at peace. 

Normally, sitting with someone in complete silence was nerve-wracking and nail-biting. It consumed his body and he was unable to rest until he found some way to fill the silence. It was his father’s lingering exasperation in the aftermath of a fight or Thomas’s tense shoulders on the verge of an argument. Robbe hated it. It was like staring at a glass on the edge of the table and watching it fall and shatter, but being unable to stop it. 

This silence wasn’t like that. This silence was like a warm blanket wrapped around his shoulders, tucking him into a wave of security, and familiar music playing softly. This silence was comforting—healing.

Even with the knowledge of his test on Friday, Robbe couldn’t will himself to think about it. Not when they were all like this, wrapped up in each other’s presence. Sander was half-propped against a pile of pillows. His right arm was draped over Robbe’s waist and his left had become Robbe’s pillow. Occasionally, Sander would shift, flex, and move beneath Robbe’s head, but he didn’t protest when Robbe settled back down against his arm. 

As Robbe traced the tattoos on his arm, Sander began murmuring unintelligible sayings that made Robbe smile a little brighter. Robbe traced the outline of the trees, dragged his finger over the David Bowie constellation in the inked stars, before his gaze settled on the two dragonflies. One was larger, taking up more space on his arm, and the other was smaller, hovering beneath it. Robbe glanced up at Sander, his eyes mostly shut in peace.

Swallowing, Robbe asked, “What do the dragonflies mean?” 

“Hmm?” Sander said. His eyelids fluttered open, staring down at Robbe. His right eye was open a little more than his left eye, which was still half closed. Robbe couldn’t help noticing the small detail, staring at his eyelids as a fond smile grew on his lips. Sander spotted his gaze and smiled before saying, a little hoarsely, “What did you say?” 

“What do the dragonflies mean?” 

There was a brief pause, a conflicted look on Sander’s face. His eyebrows crinkled and he shifted uncomfortably. Robbe sat up, propping himself up on one arm, as Sander let out a breath. Robbe was about to take back his question, insist that Sander didn’t have to explain, and ask about something else. Before he could get a word out, Sander turned to him and asked, “Have you ever heard of, ‘If you see a dragonfly, someone you love is visiting you’?” 

Robbe shook his head. 

A small smile formed on Sander’s face. But it was different. It was sadder. “My mama used to talk about it all the time,” Sander whispered. “Whenever we saw a dragonfly in the garden or out walking, she would call it by a name of someone that she lost—my grandmother or her uncle—and she always made sure to say hi to them.” He paused, looking at Robbe. “I always thought it was strange, but I loved that she was always so unapologetic about it. When she… passed away, I carried it on. Whenever I saw a dragonfly, I always thought of her and made sure to say hi.” 

Robbe stared down at the tattoo. If Robbe had to guess, the larger dragonfly represented his mother, but there was a nagging realization at the back of his mind. The question was on the tip of his tongue and Robbe struggled to wring it back before it slipped out. 

He glanced up at Sander, who had a knowing look in his eye. Sander reached up to caress his face, trailing his thumb over his cheek. “Robbe,” Sander said, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s okay. You can ask.” 

Robbe swallowed before asking, “Why are there two dragonflies?” Sander let out a sigh, shifting up in the bed. Robbe noticed him biting his lip and he quickly added, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Sander.”

“I know, but I want you to know,” Sander said. Robbe nodded. Without thinking, he reached up to run his hands through Sander’s hair. Sander leaned into his palm as Robbe continued the movement. “When I was ten, my mother and sister were coming back home from visiting my grandfather, who was sick. About halfway home, they were hit by a car.” Sander paused, biting down hard on his lip. Robbe wished he had never asked, because he didn’t want to see the pained look on Sander’s face. “My sister died instantly; so did the other driver. My mom was rushed to the hospital, but there wasn’t anything they could do.” 

“I’m sorry,” Robbe whispered, his voice cracking. When Robbe’s mother checked herself into the hospital, he couldn’t bear the thought of being separated. He nearly fought his father for trying to take him so far away and it pained him to go visit but leave her behind. But having her torn from his life completely, where he would never see her again? Robbe didn’t want to imagine it—didn’t want to think about it. He might burst into tears. 

Sander reached out to take Robbe’s hand, holding it tightly in his own. Robbe accepted his hand, gripping it hard in between both of his, and pressed kisses against the knuckles. His action made the corners of Sander’s lips turn up, so Robbe repeated it. Sander sat up, crossing his legs beneath him. “After the accident, I was really angry and I lashed out at my dad. I started going to therapy, but I still struggle with it sometimes. Even now, I find myself thinking about what might have happened if they never died.” 

“That’s sort of like the multiverse theory,” Robbe said softly. 

Sander glanced up. “Multiverse? Like in Spider-Man?”

Despite the heaviness in the air, Robbe found himself chuckling. Across from him, Sander mirrored the action. “It’s a theory based around the idea that time is just a dimension. So there’s this universe. But there’s also a bunch of other universes out there and whenever you make a choice, the universe splits. So you can exist in every universe, but it’s slightly different from one universe to the next.” Robbe glanced at Sander, who was smiling at him. “So there’s a universe where I decided to move to Amsterdam or Paris for college. Or a universe where my mother decided to name me—I don’t know, Isak, or something.”

“So, like The Flash?” 

Robbe laughed. “Why am I not surprised that you watched The Flash?” 

Sander shrugged, smirking. “Guilty pleasure from my youth.” His smile faltered. Robbe scooted forward. He wanted to wrap his arms around Sander’s shoulders, clinging to him like a koala until the sadness left his body, but he couldn’t allow himself to let go of Sander’s hand. “I’ve thought about it,” he said, squeezing Robbe’s hand tighter. “But every time I do, I just feel lonely.”

“Why?” 

“I just—I’ll start thinking about it and I get sad, because there’s another universe out there where my mom and my sister made it home safely that night. But then I start thinking about how they could’ve died later in another car wreck or something else. Once that starts happening, I start retracing my steps, start questioning how one thought morphs into the next, and it leaves my head spinning and—”

“Hey,” Robbe said, interrupting him gently. Letting go of Sander’s hand, he scooted closer to him. He draped his legs over Sander’s thighs, practically sitting in his lap. Then he wrapped his arms around Sander’s shoulders and pulled him close. Sander collapsed against his shoulder, breathing out shallowly, and Robbe turned to press a kiss against his temple. “It’s okay,” Robbe said. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore.” 

Keeping his forehead against Robbe’s shoulder, Sander turned to him, asking, “You’ve never thought about that?” Robbe shook his head, pressing a kiss against his forehead. Sander’s eyes fluttered shut and he let out a featherlight hum. His lips tugged up in a smile. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.” 

It was a joke; or rather, an attempt at one. It was an attempt to brush off the gravity of their conversation and the effect that it seemed to have on Sander. He was trying to act like it hadn’t. Robbe could recognize the move as easy as breathing. His mother would do the same thing when they would talk about Robbe and his dad and she would try to move on by bringing up work. There was a part of him that wanted to hold Sander tighter against him and never let go. But Sander had indicated that he wanted to move past the conversation and Robbe wanted to let him.

So Robbe rolled his eyes dramatically and fake laughed. Sander beamed up at him before leaning forward and slotting their lips together. As they kissed, Robbe tried to pour every ounce of comfort he could into the kiss, cradling his jaw and running his hands through Sander’s hair. He hoped that it had an effect on how Sander was feeling. 

* * *

**Woensdag 18:23**

Once they settled back against the bed, Robbe could feel Sander’s head moving around. Shifting against his chest, Robbe turned to look at him, watching as Sander slowly looked at every part of Robbe’s bedroom. His green eyes moved across every piece of furniture in the room and posters on the walls. It was like Sander was trying to create the room in his mind to draw later—and Robbe wouldn’t be surprised. 

As he watched, Robbe felt the smile worm its way to his face and it was only then that Sander looked back at him, asking, “What?” 

Robbe shook his head, resting his cheek against Sander’s chest. “Nothing.”

Sander smiled, pointing to the surfboard. It was still stuck behind his dresser. Since last summer, it had collected a thick layer of dust, lying unused. Occasionally, Robbe would pull it out and clean it. He had been itching to get to the ocean again, but with exams, he couldn’t afford the time off. “Have you gone surfing yet?” 

“Not yet,” Robbe said. “Jens and Lucas talked about possibly going to the beach next week. Just go out and rent a beach house with Lucas’s two best friends from Amsterdam. They’re finishing up their semester this week too.” Robbe turned to Sander, smiling at him. “Why?” 

Sander rolled his eyes, laughing. “I was just imagining it all. You, up on a surfboard without a care in the world. And as beautiful as you are? I wish I could be there to photograph it.” Robbe shook his head, hiding his face in Sander’s shoulder. Sander’s chest vibrated with his laughter. “Maybe we can go later in the summer, just the two of us. Then I’ll be able to see it for myself.” 

“It sounds nice,” Robbe said quietly. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, but if you’re going with me, and it’s just the two of us, I’m definitely teaching you how to surf.” 

“If we do end up going to the beach this summer, I promise that I’m all yours,” Sander said, grinning at him. His eyes flickered back over Robbe’s shoulder before he added, “I didn’t expect your computer to have two monitors.” 

Robbe glanced over at the computer, biting down nervously on his lip. 

The dual-monitors were the evidence of what Robbe was hiding from Sander about his streaming. Robbe had a reason for keeping it from Sander, but it did little in making him feel less guilty. Once Sander had told him about his mother and sister, Robbe felt more inclined to tell him. Sander had trusted Robbe enough to share information so close to his heart. Robbe wanted to show Sander that he felt the same; that he trusted Sander as well.

But Robbe couldn’t bear the thought of Sander looking at him with contempt or saying “Aren’t you a little old to be playing Fortnite?” It was an irrational thought, because Sander had always been supportive. Robbe knew this. However, the thought and fear was enough to make Robbe pause and choke down on the words before they could escape. 

“Yeah,” Robbe said. He leaned back against Sander’s chest. Robbe turned his head away in hopes of hiding the guilty look that was certainly on his face.

“Yeah, I just always thought you were looking at one monitor,” Sander continued, shrugging. Robbe tilted to look up at him. His eyebrows furrowed. However, Sander seemed oblivious to Robbe’s gaze because he continued without pause. “But it would make sense that there are two monitors. I don’t know how computer games work, but I’m sure that they take up the entire screen. So, the chat would be on the other screen, right?”

Robbe blinked at him. “Huh?”

Sander glanced over at Robbe. “Your streams, of course,” Sander said simply. The realization hit Robbe quickly, nearly knocking the wind out of him. Robbe sat up, crossing his legs beneath him as he stared at Sander. There was a hint of a smug smile playing across his features as he said, “I didn’t know that you were a streamer until Noor told me that was how you two knew each other. Since she gave me your handle, I’ve been a regular watcher, as long as I wasn’t at work.” 

“You have?” Robbe asked. 

“Of course,” Sander said, sitting up and draping one arm over Robbe’s knee. “How could I resist the urge to see you in your natural environment? Every time I watch you, you always look so relaxed and calm and like you’re having the time of your life. Plus it’s so easy to draw you like that. For the past week, I’ve been trying to capture the face you make when you’re concentrating, but I haven’t been able to get it.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Robbe asked.

“Yeah,” Sander said, leaning closer to him. Without hesitation, Robbe leaned in. When Sander was close enough that he could’ve kissed Robbe, he stopped and stared at Robbe. “If I ever manage to capture it, I’ll show you. Your nose scrunches up and you hunch over a little bit to the screen. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen you do—there you go, you’re doing it now.” 

Robbe shoved his shoulder, pushing him away. Sander laughed, loud and melodious, before grabbing Robbe’s wrist. Sander pulled Robbe back to him and leaned in to kiss him. 

The first kiss tasted of joy. Because of their laughter, their lips hardly fit together. Once they finally managed to slide together, completely and fully, one of them would break and they would start laughing again. Even with one hand cupping Sander’s face, Robbe tried to reach down to tickle his side. The motion hardly affected Sander, who retaliated. Robbe was left writhing beneath him in dazed laughter as Sander’s fingers danced along his side.

The second kiss was a little less so. There was still joy present, dangling on the edge of their fingertips and the laughter in their throats. But even as the light giggles escaped from between their lips, there was something else growing at the edge of their minds. As Sander hovered over him, he nipped at Robbe’s bottom lip, tugging a little harder, and Robbe pulled him closer in response. His hand was fisted in the collar of his black t-shirt and Robbe reached up to wrap his legs loosely around Sander’s waist.

The following kiss was charged. At first, it turned slow and more sure, each of their movements guiding them into the next one. But once Sander kissed him harder, deeper, and sunk down against Robbe, pressing his full weight against him, Robbe felt like their kiss tipped into something else. Not that he minded. Sander slid his tongue across Robbe’s lips and he opened his mouth willingly, accepting Sander’s tongue. Robbe wrapped an arm around Sander’s shoulders, pulling him even closer, and dug his fingers into the soft strands of Sander’s hair. 

Sander’s hand trailed down his chest, leaving a warm path behind. Once his hand arrived at Robbe’s waist, it slipped beneath the fabric of his t-shirt and Robbe gasped against Sander’s lips. The skin beneath his hand burned up as Sander’s hand slid across his chest, mapping out the muscles and scars that shaped it. Pulling back, their lips separating with a pop, Sander grabbed the fabric of Robbe’s shirt with both hands. For a second, he halted, simply fisting the fabric, and Robbe opened his eyes to find Sander staring at him.

“Is it okay if I…” Sander trailed off. 

Robbe nodded, vigorously, his words failing him. Sander tugged on the fabric of his t-shirt with more intent, pulling it higher on Robbe’s chest. His mind was spinning with want, but Robbe managed to raise his arms above their heads. He arched his back to help Sander the shirt past his shoulders. Once it was off and discarded to the side, Sander returned his gaze to Robbe. 

After a longing stare at his chest, Sander kissed him again and trailed a hand across his stomach. His hand lingered against a childhood scar, sweeping across the scar tissue, and Robbe gasped. Sander kissed down Robbe’s jaw to his neck before placing a flurry of kisses on the skin there. Sander pressed a deep kiss where Robbe’s neck met his shoulder, sucking hard on the skin and pulling it between his teeth. 

Robbe wondered fleetingly if Sander would leave a mark there. An excited thrill ran up his spine, because he wanted Sander to leave a mark. His roommates and his friends would give him hell, but Robbe couldn’t find it in himself to care. Robbe tugged on Sander’s hair and Sander kissed him again, harder. Robbe kissed him back, arching into him, before grabbing at Sander’s t-shirt, lifting it to his shoulders—

There was a knock on the front door.

Robbe groaned, releasing the fabric in his hands. Sander laughed, pressing a fleeting kiss against Robbe’s lips, before rolling off him. Robbe sat up and grabbed his shirt from where Sander had discarded it. “I swear, if that’s Milan who forgot his keys again,” Robbe said. 

As Robbe pulled the shirt over his head and got to his feet, Sander said, “Well, I am looking forward to meeting your guru.” 

“He appointed himself,” Robbe said curtly, leaving the bedroom. 

As he moved to the front door, Robbe realized suddenly that the person on the other side couldn’t be Milan. His roommate was as impatient as he was nosy. If it were him, he would be yelling at Robbe through the door once he was left without a response. It was a fact that Robbe was used to, but the absence of it made him nervous. Of his three roommates, Milan was the only one that would be coming home right now. 

Standing on his toes, Robbe checked through the peephole of the door and his heart rate sky-rocketed. 

Thomas. 

Even through the small, narrow pathway of his sight, he could tell that Thomas was nervous. His tie was undone and his blazer was thrown over his arm. His hair was all messed up, no longer slicked back and pristine. He was shifting nervously from one foot to the other, glancing around him. 

Anger briefly bubbling up in his gut, Robbe took a step back from the door and reached for the knob. But he stopped, his fingertips brushing across the metal. As much as he wanted to throw the door open and tell him to leave, Robbe knew that was what Thomas wanted, to see Robbe and say his piece. No matter how many times Robbe told him, Thomas wouldn’t listen until he got what he wanted. And Robbe didn’t want to fight. Not here, not now, with Sander in the next room. 

So Robbe turned away from the front door and went back to the bedroom. 

Sander was still sitting on Robbe’s bed, his legs crossed beneath him with his phone in his hand. As Robbe shut the door, turning the knob so it wouldn’t make a sound, a worried look crossed over Sander’s face. Once Robbe sat down beside him, Sander tossed his phone aside and said, “What’s wrong?” Robbe shrugged and Sander sent him a look. “Robbe, don’t try to pull that. I know something’s wrong. Who was at the door?”

Robbe let out a sigh. “It was Thomas,” Robbe said. He turned toward Sander, who glanced in the direction of the door. “I didn’t open the door because all it’s going to do is lead to a fight. He doesn’t stop until he says what he wants and he doesn’t understand that I don’t want to hear it. Again. I don’t even know how he managed to get in the building, because I didn’t buzz him in.” Sander reached out, wrapping his arms around Robbe and pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Robbe,” Sander said, pressing a kiss against his forehead. Robbe tilted his head up and Sander obliged him with a fleeting kiss against his lips, soft and gentle. “Come on. Let’s lie down for a little while longer.”

“Then you have to leave?” Robbe asked, laying back against the pillows. 

“Yeah,” Sander said, hovering over him. Robbe pouted, jetting out his bottom lip, and Sander chuckled. He leaned down to press a kiss against his lips, snagging Robbe’s bottom lip between his teeth. “But you’ve got to study hard for your test on Friday. Afterward, we can go out to eat or hang out at my apartment.” 

“Don’t you have work?” Robbe asked. 

“Not this Friday, no,” Sander said, grinning. “So, after you finish your final test for the semester, you and I can celebrate. On Friday, I’m all yours.” 

Robbe smiled up at Sander before pulling him down by the back of his neck. Sander obliged, kissing him slowly and gently. Robbe let out a breath as Sander pulled away, close but not close enough. “Being with you all day Friday? That sounds nice,” Robbe said against his lips. Sander grinned at him, pressing their lips together again, and letting Robbe roll Sander on his back.

* * *

**Donderdag 18:45**

From the second that his mama opened the door, Robbe could tell that it had been a bad day for her. 

To anyone who didn’t know her, Marie IJzermans looked like she was okay, with her bright smile and her hair done up neatly. But her shoulders were slumped and the light behind her eyes was dim. As Robbe moved to help her with dinner, she shooed him away with a little more strength than she might’ve intended, saying over her shoulder, “I’m perfectly capable of doing things myself, Robbe.” Robbe had simply nodded, taking a seat at the table and waiting until she asked for help.

As Robbe watched his mama move around the kitchen, he thought that it was a good thing that Zoë decided not to come this week. Robbe knew that Zoë wouldn’t have minded; she had seen his mama in worser states. She had been bedridden, wrapped with enough blankets to form a literal cocoon, with enough sadness in her bones to last a lifetime. Robbe couldn’t see Senne minding either. When Senne lived in the flatshare, he always asked about her. 

But his mama? 

She would’ve been so upset with herself. 

Whenever Robbe had talked about her meeting Thomas, his mama had been desperate to meet him on a good day. His mama’s worst fear was that she would make a bad impression on his boyfriend. She had been adamant about meeting him on one of her good days and Robbe had promised that they would. Thomas had been patient and understanding. Once they had met, his mama had been relieved that she didn’t “scare him away.”

Robbe knew that she wanted to make a good impression on Senne. 

The chair next to him pulled out and his mama sat down next to him. “I’m sorry, Robbe,” she said, reaching out to take his hands. Robbe gripped her hands back tightly. “It’s just been so hard at work lately. Ever since the incident last Friday, Sharon has us working really hard to fix it. She’s doing her best and following procedure, but it’s stressful. And it’s a little hard right now.”

“It’s okay, Mama,” Robbe said. “I understand. You’re doing your best.” 

“I know.” His mama sounded defeated. Her shoulders slumped a little as she let out a sigh. “It’s just been rough. It’s a lot of work and we’re trying to play catch up because we’re down a person. But it’s only going to get better.” Robbe nodded. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can talk about the details quite yet.”

“I know,” Robbe said. “But it’ll be okay.” 

“Yes,” his mama said, moving to stand up. With a slightly wavy step, she moved to grab the pans from the stove. Robbe hopped on his feet to help her. Even though she tried to shoo him away with one of the hot pads, Robbe grabbed one of the pots, following her back to the kitchen table. “Now, enough about me, how has your week been? I know that your exams are finishing up this week, right?” 

“Yeah,” Robbe said. He placed the pot down before moving to grab the two plates from the cabinet. “I’ve just got my last one tomorrow morning.” 

“Oh. Have you done enough studying for it?” 

“Yes,” he said, sitting down in the chair he abandoned. His mama sat down across from him, taking the plate that he offered. “I might leave a little early so I can go home and study a little more before I go to bed. But I’ve been studying almost all week. So I feel really good about it.”

“That’s great, I’m sure you’ll do amazing,” his mama said, smiling. She turned to the food and started piling green beans on her plate. Once she finished, she handed the small pot over to Robbe, who took it without comment. “Have you done anything else this week or has studying been the majority of your focus?” 

Robbe bit down on his lip, trying to fight back the images of his afternoon with Sander. After being interrupted by Thomas, the two of them had leisurely kissed. They had lost track of the time between their kisses, so much that they were both surprised by the door opening. Luckily, Robbe had managed to throw his weight on the door before Milan tried to open it. Sander was laughing on his bed, muffling his laughter in one of his pillows, as Robbe argued with his roommate through the door. Once Sander had to leave, Robbe was only able to sneak Sander out the door when Milan took a shower. 

As Sander kissed him beneath the doorframe, he whispered against the shell of Robbe’s ear, “It’s kind of hot being your dirty little secret, Robin.” Robbe had shoved him because he was the furthest thing from it and Sander laughed because he knew. But Robbe pulled him back for one more kiss by the collar of his shirt.

“It’s been the majority of my week, yes,” Robbe said, swallowing. 

As he moved to grab the pan from his mama, he spotted the knowing look on her face. His mama’s brown eyes were squinted in his direction and a small smile was tugging on her lips. “What’s that look on your face for?” she asked. Knowing that she would catch him if he spoke, Robbe shook his head. “Don’t try to push it off. I know that look. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” 

“Robbe.”

“Okay, okay,” Robbe said. Letting out a breath, Robbe ran a hand through his hair before looking at his mama, who was smiling over at him fondly. Even though the food was cooling, his mama put down her fork and turned to him fully. Robbe let out a breath, a smile pushing up the corners of his lips. “I met someone a few weeks ago and we’re… together now.” 

“Really?” his mother asked, smiling. 

“Yeah. He came over yesterday and we hung out. But he’s been really insistent on me studying for my exams so we haven’t met up a lot.” 

His mother turned to him. There was a serious look on her face as she leaned closer to him. Once again, his mama took Robbe’s hands in her own and squeezed tightly. Then, she looked him in the eye and asked, “He makes you happy, right?” 

Robbe nodded. “Yes, Mama,” Robbe said. To his ears, it sounded like a confession. But he didn’t care. It was the truth. “He makes me happy. Happier than I’ve felt in a long time.” 

“Good,” his mama said. Her smile turned watery as she gave Robbe’s hand one more squeeze. “You deserve someone who makes you smile like that all the time.” His mama released his hand before turning back to his food. “Now, I want to hear all about this man who has been really insistent on you studying. He sounds like quite the man.”

Robbe let out a breath, grinning. “Yeah. He is.” 

* * *

**Vrijdag 12:12**

The second that Robbe turned in his exam and left the classroom, it was officially summer.

Finally, all of his exams were over. Just like that, he was released into the world; he could do whatever he wanted without having to worry about projects or deadlines. Or, at least, temporarily—until the fall semester started. For now, Robbe was free and clear of all the pressure of school. He could stream for longer, skate with his friends, or hang out with Sander into the late hours. 

As the thought of Sander popped into his brain, his phone vibrated in his hands as it powered up. Robbe glanced down and found Sander’s good luck message—the one he’d seen before he shut his phone off—in the midst of all his other notifications. Clicking on the message, Robbe quickly typed back as he headed towards the café.

Robbe:  _ I finished my exam. _ _  
_ _ It’s officially summer. _

“Robbe!” Quickly locking his phone screen, Robbe turned to find Zoë running up to him. She was dressed in a pair of shorts and a shirt. Zoë ran a hand through her bleached-blonde hair as she caught up to him and smiled at him. “According to Jens, there is going to be a big celebration party for the end of exams. Were you thinking about going?”

“I was going to,” Robbe admitted. “But I’ve already made plans.” 

Zoë raised an eyebrow. “With this new mystery guy?” 

Robbe mirrored her expression. “Where did you hear this from?” 

“Milan,” Zoë said, shrugging. There was an inquisitive look on her face as Robbe shook his head in disbelief. “Come on, Robbe. We’ve all noticed your change in mood. And, frankly, we’re all curious about who this mystery man could possibly be.” She pursed her lips as she stared at Robbe, who wasn’t folding anytime soon. “Come on, please? At least tell me his name.”

“I will,” Robbe said. He stopped and leaned against the wall. Confused, Zoë leaned on the wall across from him. “Just not yet, okay?” Robbe let out a breath. “I just don’t want to rush things, Zoë. It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this and I want to experience it.” 

“Robbe, it’s okay for you to want to experience it,” Zoë said, smiling at him. “Milan and I are just worried about you, that’s all. If you don’t want to tell us yet, you don’t have to. You know that.” Robbe nodded and let out a relieved breath. “Does he make you happy?” 

As if some cosmic deity opened up the heavens and rained down that exact moment, Robbe’s phone vibrated in his hands. At the sudden sensation, Robbe jumped and Zoë laughed at him. As he flipped her off, he turned over his phone in his hand and spotted Sander’s message. 

Sander:  _ I’m almost there. See you by the library. _ _  
_ _ Can’t wait to hear about your exam <3 _

As Robbe smiled down at his phone, Zoë laughed again. She reached out, poking at his dimples, and he shoved her hands away. “I guess there’s the answer,” she said matter-of-factly. Zoë moved to leave, adjusting the strap on her shoulder, and smiling over at him. “I’ll see you whenever you get home, Robbe.” 

Before she left, Robbe made sure to flip her off again. 

Robbe stepped outside. As he headed to the library, Robbe could feel the excitement bubbling up in his stomach. While Robbe had no idea what Sander had planned, he was certain that he would enjoy it. Even with the stress of exams, being with Sander felt like walking on air. Robbe couldn’t imagine what it might feel like without the added stress on top of it. 

“Robbe.” 

He half-expected it to be Jens or Moyo. Even when Robbe wasn’t in the mood or had other plans, Jens would always double-check and make sure that Robbe really didn’t want to go, while Moyo would always try and goad him into coming along. As much as Robbe would love to have a night out with his friends, he was looking forward to an evening with Sander. Especially since he was apparently being dragged into a boys’ trip next week.

But, as he turned, his face fell as he realized who had called out to him.

Thomas.

Again.

His ex-boyfriend was dressed in his typical work-day attire. But Robbe could spot his stress and anxiety from a mile away. His tie was undone and his dress shirt was wrinkled. There was a look on his face, broken, that made Robbe pause. There was also kindled anger brewing in his gut at the sight of him here, at his school, as Robbe turned to him and asked, “What do you want?” 

“I just want to talk,” Thomas said. “And you haven’t been responding to any of my texts.”

“I wonder why,” Robbe said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Robbe, come on.”

“I’m meeting someone, Thomas,” Robbe said, turning in the direction he had been going. “And, frankly, I don’t want to fight with you right now.” As quickly as Robbe turned around, Thomas was stepping in front of him. Robbe took a step back from him, but Thomas grabbed him by the wrist. Before Robbe could pull his hand from his grasp, Thomas was shoving something in his hand. The watch. Robbe sighed. “For fuck’s sake, Thomas, I don’t want the watch—”

“I want to get back together with you.”

There it was. 

A month ago, Robbe would have killed to hear that. Those eight words would’ve sparked new hope into Robbe. They would’ve pumped him full of relief and removed the anxiety that filled his bones at the thought of Thomas not wanting him anymore—that he would never be good enough. Now, the hope that Robbe would’ve felt last month was replaced with anger boiling in his stomach as he stared daggers at Thomas.

Not acknowledging his words, Robbe shot his arm out, pushing his hand with the watch against Thomas’s chest. Letting out a controlled breath, Robbe said, as firm as he could muster, “I told you that I don’t want the watch, Thomas.” 

_ I don’t want to be with you. _

Thomas seemed oblivious to the anger brimming on the edge. With a calm, collected, and maybe a little anxious demeanor, Thomas took Robbe’s hand in his own. Robbe tried to take his hand from his grasp, but Thomas held on tighter, his nails digging into his skin. Then, he folded Robbe’s fingers over, enclosing the watch in his palm. Thomas raised his eyes back to Robbe’s. Considering the fact that Robbe was his boyfriend for over a year, he should’ve noticed the tension of his shoulders or the way that Robbe was glaring daggers at him. But Thomas didn’t. He just held Robbe’s clenched hand a little tighter and whispered, “Just think about it, please.”

Before Robbe could speak or unleash the kindled anger coursing through his veins, someone else was speaking, “Is everything okay, Robbe?” 

Sander. Robbe could hear his steps behind him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Thomas.

Thomas glanced over at Sander and Robbe could see his resolve falter. Then, he turned his eyes back to Robbe before pleading, “Just think about it, Robbe.” There were multiple things that Robbe wanted to say to Thomas, wanted to shout at him until he managed to get it through his thick skull, but he knew that Thomas wouldn’t get it. So Robbe held back his harsh words and ripped his hand from his grasp. His ex-boyfriend glanced over at Sander, nodding curtly to him, before disappearing toward the parking lot. 

Once Thomas moved away, Sander stepped into his view, blocking the sight of his ex walking away. Sander was dressed in a pair of jeans and a thin t-shirt that hugged his arms tightly. His green bag was draped across his chest. Sander glanced over at Thomas’s retreating form before turning back to Robbe. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Robbe admitted. The anger was brimming beneath the surface of his skin, buzzing loudly like a hot wire. Robbe gripped the stupid watch in his hand a little tighter and let out a sigh. He was frustrated. Why couldn’t he just make Thomas see that he didn’t want the watch? Robbe let out a sigh, closing his eyes. “Why can’t he just leave me alone?”

“I don’t know.” 

Seconds later, two arms wrapped around Robbe’s waist, pulling him close. Without hesitation, Robbe stepped closer into Sander’s waiting arms. He buried his face against the flushed skin of his neck and held the fabric of his shirt tightly in his free hand. Sander held onto his waist tightly and ran a hand up his back. Robbe let out a sigh, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, Robbe,” Sander said, pressing a fleeting kiss against Robbe’s temple. Robbe let out a hum at the feeling. Sander ran a hand through Robbe’s curls, forcing him to tilt his head backward. There was a small smile that formed on Sander’s face. “Now, come on. Let’s forget about this stupid watch,” Sander said, taking the watch from Robbe’s grasp. Without shifting, Sander unzipped his backpack and dropped the jewelry into the sack. “And figure out what to eat.”

“Please, I’m starving.” Sander grinned, moving to step aside, but Robbe held him tightly against him. Sander stared at him, confused, and Robbe stood on his toes to press their lips together. Sander held onto him tightly, clinging to his hips, and opened his mouth to Robbe’s tongue. Once Robbe pulled away, Sander’s eyes fluttered open, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Robin,” Sander teased. He unraveled his arms from Robbe’s waist and leaned down to clasp their hands together. Once their hands were laced together, Sander tugged Robbe in the direction of the shops off-campus. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat.” Robbe caught up to Sander, happily going along with him, unaware of the pair of eyes still trained on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update for tomorrow/next week: **there will not be any clips**.
> 
> Over the past week, I was originally ahead of the scenes I was uploading. But, for Wednesday’s clips, I didn’t finish writing the final clip until noon (my time) and, thanks to the wonderful editing prowess of Valentina aka @nooraevas, I was able to upload only an hour later than scheduled. Writing these clips is time-consuming and unfortunately, I sometimes do not have the time to complete it on time. I don’t want to put out clips that I don’t feel 100% on simply because I feel the need to post—especially when it’s simply my own expectations for what I should be doing. 
> 
> Because of this, I’ve decided that I’m going to take a week off and I feel like this is the best place in the story to do so.
> 
> During this week off, I will continue to write Jij Verliest. If all goes as plan, I’m hoping to get at least one chapter ahead—maybe even a chapter and a half if my brain decides to cooperate with me—and I hope to return back to posting clips on Saturday, July 4th. There’s no doubt in my mind that I can obtain this goal. But, should I not be able to, I will keep you posted on my Tumblr <3.
> 
> Even though I am taking a week off from posting, comments are one of the best parts about posting a chapter and I hope you all enjoyed <3
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support. I hope you understand.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I still don't know how to open these lol 🤷🏼♀️
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!!

**Zaterdag 8:27**

Waking up in Sander’s bed felt like a bizarre sense of déj à vu. 

Robbe woke up in an empty bed. The soft sheets were wrapped securely around him, surrounding him in Sander’s scent and overwhelming his senses. Somewhere, he could hear a pencil scratching against paper. Robbe let out a groan, stretching as he reached out, trying to find Sander. Last night, Robbe had drifted off in Sander’s arms, lulled to sleep by Sander’s gentle singing and the warm buzz of alcohol in his blood. Robbe was certain that he had held onto him, not a pillow.

“Sanderrrrr,” Robbe said, his voice groggy with sleep.

“I’m still here, cutie.” 

Sander sounded far away and Robbe opened his eyes in an attempt to find him. Squinting at the sunlight shining through the windows, he spotted Sander sitting at his artist’s desk. Sander was still dressed in a graphic shirt and a pair of sweats. His hair was sticking up in all directions and his green eyes were directed solely at Robbe, who blinked over at him with half-opened eyes. Sander had his legs crossed beneath him and had a sketchbook propped up on one arm.

Robbe groaned, shutting his eyes. The room was too bright and it was too early. “You’re too far away. Come back to bed.” Sander chuckled, still sounding far off. Robbe reached out, patting the sheets beside him. “Come back.” There was a squeak from the chair as Sander stood up. It was only a few seconds before the bed dipped beside him, shifting beneath Sander’s weight. 

As Sander settled back against the pillows, Robbe blindly reached out. With his right arm, he managed to find the warmth of Sander’s chest and he clung to it. Robbe shifted closer, moving the sheets with him, and swung his left arm around him as well. As Sander chuckled, Robbe snuggled into his side, shielding himself from the bright sunlight.

Sander laughed. “If I can’t see your face, I can’t draw you.”

“Good,” Robbe said, squeezing him tighter. “I’m not an interesting subject.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re the  _ best _ subject. I can’t stop drawing you.” 

Feeling the blush rising to his cheeks, Robbe asked, “How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough to manage to get about half of your face. Look,” Sander said. Hiding in the shadows of his figure, Robbe turned and opened his eyes to see the sketch. It was only half-finished, showing the left side of his face, and was only missing the freckles dotting his cheeks. The sketch was beautiful and masterfully detailed. He knew Sander was a beautiful artist, but seeing it like this was something else. Robbe closed his eyes and pressed his face into Sander’s side again. “Robbeeeeee,” Sander said, sounding like he was smiling. “I can’t see your face like that, cutie.”

“No drawing, more cuddles,” Robbe said, practically an order. Sander sighed, but Robbe could tell that he wasn’t upset. If anything, Robbe would bet that Sander was smiling. 

In his arms, Sander shuffled around, tilting away. For a second, Robbe clung a little tighter but he heard the sound of a drawer opening and closing. Then, Sander shifted down against the bed and got beneath the covers, their legs tangling together. Robbe loosened his grip until Sander was level with him and wrapped his arms around him. Once Sander pulled him closer, Robbe buried his face into the crook of his neck and curled his fingers into the strands of Sander’s hair. Sander pressed a kiss against Robbe’s cheek and trailed his fingers down his back.

The two of them sat in silence, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence. Sander started tracing patterns on Robbe’s back. There was a swirl, a heart, and other doodles that moved too fast before he was moving onto the next one. After his hand stilled, Sander said softly, “When do you want to tell our friends about us?” 

“After I get back from the beach,” Robbe said without hesitation. He glanced up at Sander, who was looking down at him in surprise. The look on his face made Robbe’s resolve falter. Swallowing down his nerves, he asked, “Is that alright with you?”

Sander let out a breath and Robbe involuntarily steeled himself for a rejection. “Of course, it’s more than alright with me,” Sander said, a smile brightening up his eyes. Robbe let out a breath of relief as Sander turned toward him. He raked his fingers through Robbe’s hair gently. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting it so soon,” Sander said. 

“Really?” Robbe asked.

Sander nodded. “Yeah, with my last relationship—or, I guess, my last serious one—I didn’t meet her friends until several months in.” 

Robbe shrugged before leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to Sander’s lips. Sander pressed against him, chasing his lips as Robbe pulled away, before falling back against the pillows. “If I wasn’t going to the beach with them, I would drag you out of the apartment and introduce you to them right now. But we made a promise that it was just a guys’ vacation. It’s just about all of us hanging out for a few days.”

Sander blinked, confused. “Aren’t Jens and Lucas dating?”

“Very much so,” Robbe said, resting against his chest. “But we all made a deal. Every time they kiss, we’re throwing them in the ocean.” Sander laughed loudly, throwing his head back against the pillows. “It’ll be a hard task, but we’re committed to doing it.”

“I’m sure, I’ve seen Jens, and he’s the tallest one,” Sander said, grinning at him. “He’s going to be particularly hard to throw in the water. But if anyone can do it, it’s you. I believe in you. Just tell me how well it works out for you.” 

Robbe shook his head. “I’ll probably end up going into the water too.” 

Sander nodded, scrunching up his nose. “You definitely are,” he said, moving to kiss his lips. After a brief kiss, Sander separated their lips slightly. “Just make sure to send pictures. I need to see the result of trying to drag Jens into the ocean.”

“You just want to see me in a wet shirt.”

“Maybe,” Sander said, laughing. “I wouldn’t say no.” 

Robbe shook his head, pressing another kiss to his lips. Sander dug his hands into Robbe’s hair and ran his tongue across his bottom lip. Robbe pushed himself up, swinging his leg out to straddle his waist. Sander pulled him closer. Robbe sighed, grinning against Sander’s lips. “So what’s the plan for today?”

Sander sighed. “I don’t know. But you have to leave by noon.”

“What? Why?”

“For starters, your stream,” Sander said, grinning up at him. Robbe rolled his eyes and leaned against his chest. Sander chuckled, his chest vibrating with the noise. “Last Saturday, you stayed late and you were answering comments about it all evening.” Robbe shook his head, staring at him unashamed. “And it’s Amber’s birthday. Dad is insisting that Amber brings Aaron over and introduce him to our parents for the first time.”

Sander rolled his eyes dramatically. 

Robbe laughed at the sight. “It sounds like a great time. Are you going to go easy on Aaron this time or are you going to make him work for your approval?” 

“I might go easy on him,” Sander decided, reaching up to cup Robbe’s jaw. “But only so he will go easy on me when you introduce me to your friends.” Robbe knew that Aaron was incapable of being mean to anyone on purpose. Sometimes, he didn’t think and said the wrong thing. But he always apologized and learned from it. At best, Aaron would probably cheer and hug Sander tightly. It was Jens (and maybe Lucas) who Sander should be worried about. Robbe smiled, kissing Sander fleetingly. “Did you want to come with? 

“Huh? To Amber’s dinner?”

“Yeah,” Sander said shyly. He smiled up at Robbe, tilting his head a little closer. “You could come and make sure that I’m being nice to Aaron. My dad is probably going to love you immediately, my step-mother will immediately drag you into the kitchen to test your skills, and Aaron would probably like to have a friendly face around as well. Plus, if you’re good, I’ll let you hold my hand under the table.”

Robbe snorted. “It all sounds lovely,” Robbe admitted, biting down on his bottom lip. “But I would be too nervous to meet your family for the first time on Amber’s birthday.” 

Sander laughed, pressing a kiss against his nose. “I understand. Maybe in a couple of weeks?” Robbe nodded, leaning against his shoulder. Sander wrapped his arms around Robbe and pulled him closer. Robbe let out a noise and shifted so their bodies were flush together. Robbe could feel Sander’s warm breath against the shell of his ear. “Let’s lay here for an hour. Then we can go out and get some food. Does that sound good?”

Unable to lift his head from the crook of Sander’s neck, Robbe simply nodded and smiled when he could feel Sander do the same. 

* * *

**Zondag 18:53**

With hurried goodbyes to the people spamming ‘bye!’ in the chat, Robbe ended his surprise Sunday afternoon stream and immediately slumped against his desk.

During the semester, Robbe didn’t stream on Sundays. He preferred to spend the time studying with Yasmina or simply doing homework. His plan was to keep the same schedule for the summer, simply to keep things consistent, and save his Sundays for skating with his friends or hanging out with Sander. But the beach house trip was going to prevent him from streaming for three days. Once he got back, Robbe knew that he would need to get back on a consistent schedule.

Today’s stream was unplanned and a surprise, but it had been one of the best streams that he had in weeks. 

Normally, Robbe would’ve only streamed for three hours. It was what his body was used to and Robbe was rigorous about keeping his streams uniform. Occasionally, he would extend the stream or shorten it in thirty minute intervals. But, normally, he couldn’t extend the stream by more than an hour. Until today. He had just ended the stream a few minutes shy of five hours.

As soon as he started the stream, Robbe had felt rejuvenated. His good mood was helped by Sander’s “good luck <3” text when Robbe informed him that he would be disappearing for a few hours. But, in the midst of studying for exams and his stressed-out streams, he had missed doing this. He had missed streaming simply because he could and hanging out with his viewers, who he saw as his friends. It was fun and exhilarating and he had missed it all. 

Plus, the fact that Sander was probably watching him sent a thrill up his spine. It made him more excited than he would ever admit to any of his friends. But the extended time in his chair had stiffened his legs and his joints. Even though Robbe had taken multiple five-minute breaks, he was still tense. 

As Robbe stood, stretching his body as far as he could, his phone buzzed on the desk and drew his attention.

Sander:  _ Amazing stream, Mr. Streamer.  _ _   
_ _ Even if I don’t know a thing about Fortnite. _ _   
_ _ Feeling stiff?  _

Robbe chuckled, picking up his phone as he moved out of his room.

Robbe:  _ Yeah, I’m walking around the apartment. _ _   
_ _ Might not sit down for another 30 min. _ _   
_ _ Did you get any drawings done? _

It didn’t take long to respond. 

Sander:  _ Of course, I’m still working on your concentrated face though. _ _   
_ _ Wanna see? _

As Robbe sent him the affirmative, he headed out of his bedroom. Across the hall, Zoë’s bedroom door was slightly open and he glanced inside to find her sleeping. Zoë was curled up on her bed, wrapped in her gray blanket, with her hair tied back. Her laptop was perched on the edge of the bed, playing a show. 

As Robbe closed his bedroom door behind him, his stomach gave an angry growl, reminding him he had waited too long. Robbe quickly moved in the direction of the kitchen, where he could hear voices. Rounding the corner, he spotted Milan at the kitchen table with Senne. Both of them were drinking what looked like a cup of hot cocoa. As Robbe stepped inside, Milan cut Senne off mid-sentence to ask, “How was your stream?”

Robbe blinked, confused. “It was fine.” Senne turned to him, smiling nervously, as Robbe headed to the fridge to pull out the leftovers from earlier. “I’m just getting some food. It should only take a few minutes. Then, the two of you can go back to your top-secret talk that I’m not supposed to hear.”

“Oooooo,” Milan said, grinning wickedly. “Is someone jealous that other people go to me with top-secret information?” 

Robbe rolled his eyes and flipped Milan off for good measure. 

“No, no, it’s not that,” Senne said, letting out a sigh. Robbe grabbed one of the plates from the cabinets as he looked over at Senne. Despite being so sure of himself, Senne looked unbelievably nervous—like he was about to jump out of his skin. In all honesty, Robbe wasn’t prepared to see it. “We were just talking about the fact that I’m going to meet your mama on Thursday.” Robbe nodded as he piled the cold spaghetti onto his plate. “Do you have any advice?”

Robbe nodded again, placing the plate into the microwave. Once he started it, Robbe turned back to Senne and Milan, who were waiting on him. “There’s absolutely nothing you need to worry about, Senne,” Robbe said. “Mama is physically incapable of hating anyone. Even my dad and Thomas. As long as you love and take care of Zoë—which you do—she’s going to love you.” 

“There’s always a first,” Senne said. 

“If there was a first time, it would’ve been Thomas,” Robbe deadpanned. 

“Agreed,” Milan said. He reached across the table to take Senne’s hand in his own. “She’s going to love you, Senne. How can she not?” The microwave let out a beep. Robbe moved to pull his steaming pasta out. He blew away the steam as he crossed the kitchen, taking up one of the spare chairs. Robbe extended his legs out beneath the table, stretching them until they popped. “You love her daughter and that’s all any mother would want. Especially Marie.”

Robbe nodded. “Nothing to worry about.” 

“Okay,” Senne said, turning to him. “I’m trusting you.” Robbe chuckled, taking a bite of his pasta. “How did your exams go?” Senne asked. Robbe glanced over at Senne, who had turned in his chair. “I didn’t see you at the party Friday night.”

“Are you still going to college parties?” Robbe asked. 

“Only when my girlfriend is.”

“Oh, did someone spend the night with his mystery man that we don’t know anything about?” Milan asked, raising his mug to his mouth. Robbe rolled his eyes as Milan suggestively waved his eyebrows. Beside him, Senne took a sip of his hot cocoa. He tried his best to seem indifferent, but Robbe could still spot the suggestive look on Senne’s features. “Come on, Robbe. It’s a safe space. If we talk about it, I’m sure Senne won’t mind.”

Robbe was certain he couldn’t roll his eyes harder. “Sometimes, I wonder why you’re so interested in everyone’s love life,” Robbe said. Senne snorted. Thankfully, he wasn’t holding his cocoa anymore. Senne covered his face with his hand as Milan sent him an accusatory stare. “But yes, I did stay with him. We went to his apartment, he cooked, and we stayed in his bedroom all night, playing video games.” 

“Good,” Milan said, grinning. “You seem happy with him.” 

“I am,” Robbe said, nodding. He took another bite of spaghetti before letting out a sigh. Milan raised an eyebrow and Senne glanced over at him. Despite the growling in his stomach, Robbe dropped his fork on his plate and leaned back. “I just wish Thomas would leave me alone.”

“Thomas?” Milan asked, raising his eyebrows. 

Senne glanced at Robbe, asking, “Your ex?” 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Robbe said. “After my exam on Friday, as I headed out to meet ‘my mystery man,’ Thomas came up to me.” Robbe shook his head, letting out a sigh. “He gave me the watch back and told me that he wanted to get back together with me.” Milan’s eyes widened. “I was so angry that I couldn’t respond to him, but—uhh… the guy I’m seeing interrupted him and Thomas left soon after that.”

“Do you want to get back together with him? With Thomas?” Senne asked.

Before Senne finished the question, Robbe was shaking his head. “No,” Robbe said. “I don’t.” 

“If you don’t want to get back together with him, you need to tell that to Thomas face-to-face, Robbe,” Senne said. He crossed his arms over his chest as Milan took a sip of his cocoa. “He deserves to hear it from you in person. If he can’t understand, that’s on him.” 

“I know,” Robbe said, slumping back in his chair. “I’m just worried that he’s going to try and talk me into getting back together with him. Again.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Senne asked, standing up from his chair. “I don’t mind.” He moved to the coffee maker. As the machine whirred to life, he moved around, starting to make another cup of hot cocoa. Once the machine started brewing, Senne added, “I’ve always been pretty good at scaring people away. Plus my parents will pay for pretty good lawyers.”

Robbe chuckled, shaking his head. “No, but I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll probably end up asking Jens or Moyo to come with me. I just don’t want to be worried about my ex showing up at the apartment for the third or fourth time.” As Robbe picked up his fork, his phone dinged in his pocket. 

“You could always go to the police,” Senne said. 

Milan nodded. “He’s right, Robbe.”

“Yeah,” Robbe said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I just don’t want to have to deal with it. But if it gets too much and he keeps showing up, I promise that I will report him to the police.” Milan nodded and, from his spot at the coffee machine, Senne made an affirmative noise. 

“It’ll be okay, Robbe,” Milan said. 

Robbe nodded his head, turning his attention back to his phone. 

Sander:  _ Sorry for the delay.  _ _   
_ _ Noor came into my room asking about dinner. _ _   
_ _ Here are all my sketches. _

Below his texts, a picture loaded in of a sheet of paper—or rather many sheets of paper—and Robbe had to stop himself from literally dropping his mouth open. If these were simply “sketches,” Robbe couldn’t help but wonder what Sander’s masterpieces would look like. In the middle of the page, his own profile was etched in with headphones over his ears. There were a handful of figures that looked like they could’ve been Pokémon, but Robbe didn’t recognize them. 

Robbe was so focused on absorbing each and every detail that he didn’t notice Senne walk up behind him. He peered over Robbe’s shoulder, holding tightly to the cup of cocoa with one hand. His presence behind Robbe had startled him, but Senne’s gaze was simply on his phone. As Robbe glanced up at him, Senne smiled down at the phone and gave him a knowing look. 

If Senne recognized Sander’s sketches, he didn’t say anything. In fact, Senne just returned to the table and struck up a conversation with Milan about work.

* * *

**Zondag 20:34**

June 28, 20:34

Jens

Robbe:  _ What time are you going to the beach house on Tuesday? _

Jens:  _ I won’t be able to go until late Thursday. _ _   
_ _ Mom wants me to wait until she gets home.  _ _   
_ _ So Lotte won’t be alone. _

Robbe:  _ And Lucas? _ _   
_ _ He’s not home right now. _ _   
_ _ I don’t know his plans. _

Jens:  _ Lucas was thinking about leaving late on Monday. _ _   
_ _ Kes and Jayden are going there Monday afternoon. _ _   
_ _ Why? What’s up? _

Robbe:  _ I’m meeting up with Thomas before I leave. _ _   
_ _ And I don’t want to go alone. _

Jens:  _ What? Why?! _

Robbe:  _ On Friday, he cornered me and gave me the watch back. _ _   
_ _ He said that he wanted to get back together with me. _

Jens:  _ You said no, right? _

Robbe:  _ I was so angry I couldn’t respond. _ _   
_ _ And he left before I could. _ _   
_ _ I’m going to give the watch back and tell him I don’t want to get back with him. _

Jens:  _ Good! You deserve better. _

Robbe:  _ I know, Jens. _ _   
_ _ I don’t want to go at all! _ _   
_ _ But I don’t want to go alone. _ _   
_ _ I know Thomas is going to want the last say. _

Jens:  _ Do you think he’s really that thick? _

Robbe:  _ He’s already tried to convince me to come back. _ _   
_ _ And I know it’s going to be worse when I tell him no. _ _   
_ _ I don’t want to be alone when that happens. _

Jens:  _ I understand.  _

Robbe:  _ I can ask Senne if you don’t want to come. _

Jens:  _ No, it’s okay.  _ _   
_ _ I can come with you and we can get on the train after. _ _   
_ _ You deserve to not have to look over your shoulder for this guy.  _

Robbe:  _ Thank you. _

Jens:  _ You’re welcome. _

* * *

**Maandag 18:16**

As soon as Milan came home, dragging Jonathan behind him, Robbe was ordered around the living room like a monkey, all for Milan’s movie night. 

In the final weeks of the semester, he had mentioned it once or twice. Even with his job, Milan still liked to host parties and get-togethers. It was a speciality of his and he had been in the mood for something “casual,” as he said. He wanted to host a regular movie night, where all their friends got together and hung out once a week. When Milan had proposed the idea late Sunday night, they had all been skeptical about it. 

If it had simply been between the four of them, it would’ve been easier to decide which day of the week. Milan had a set work schedule and Robbe was theoretically his own boss, so they had no problems. Lucas and Zoë, however, did not. And the boys’ planned beach-vacation didn’t help, either. However, aside from Amber and Luca, who already made plans with each other, the rest of them had Monday night free. 

And so, the night began. 

As soon as Jonathan changed into some of Milan’s sweatpants, he immediately stepped into the kitchen and took over—a happy by-product of being basically a master chef—and requested Zoë’s help. Between her and Milan, Zoë was easily the best cook. 

Between Milan, Robbe, and Lucas, they worked to move the couch away from the television before doing the same with the loveseat. While Robbe and Lucas did most of the heavy lifting, Milan directed the two of them around. He insisted that it was because he was the only one with the “eye” for this sort of thing, but Robbe had a feeling that it was because he was going to be cuddling with Jonathan on one of the couches and didn’t want to get all sweaty. 

Once the tables were set, they moved to adorn the wooden floors with blankets and pillows. The three of them shuffled from room to room, pulling their pillows and blankets from their beds. Milan and Lucas lightly bickered over the placement of the blankets. Robbe watched them in amusement as he draped his duvet cover over the loveseat to claim it. 

As Robbe dipped into Zoë’s room to grab her gray blanket at her request, there was a buzz at the front door. Throwing the fabric over his shoulder, Robbe went to the front door and pressed the button on the speaker. “Hello?”

“Hey, Robbe,” someone said. There was a brief moment of panic, but his mind calmed down at the realization that it was Senne. Even though he didn’t need to, Senne continued, “It’s Senne. Can you let us in?” Robbe pressed the button to let them in. He could hear Senne shout toward the speaker, “Thank you!” but the speaker cut him off. 

It wasn’t long before he heard the elevator door arriving and Robbe opened the door to the hallway 

Senne stepped out of the elevator, still dressed in his work clothes, looking stiff and tense, with a backpack thrown over his shoulder. Robbe spotted Noor walking behind him. She was dressed in a red blouse and a black skirt with leggings and heels. As she moved down the hallway, Noor took off her heels, seamlessly keeping up with Senne.

Senne patted Robbe’s shoulder as he stepped inside and Noor gave him a hug, standing on her toes to press a kiss against his cheek. Even after the elevator door closed and they stepped inside the apartment, Robbe found his eyes looking down the hallway, searching for someone else. When Robbe finally followed them into the apartment and closed the door, he was thankful that neither one of them seemed to notice. 

“Are you guys here for the movie night?” Robbe asked. 

“Yup,” Senne said. Stepping toward the coat rack, Senne took off his shoes before turning to Noor. He took the heels out of her hands and placed them beside his own shoes. “Milan didn’t call us about movie night until this morning. Hence, why we didn’t come prepared.” As if to prove his point, Senne gestured to his and Noor’s outfits. 

As Robbe opened his mouth to ask about Sander, Noor unintentionally cut him off. “As if. You’re better off than I am! At this point, my skirt is practically suffocating me.” She tugged at the waistline of her pencil skirt and frowned down at it. Senne nodded. “And you probably have at least three outfits over here. This is basically all I have for the rest of the night.”

“If you want, you can borrow one of my t-shirts,” Robbe said. 

“If you don’t mind, I would love to steal one,” Noor said. “Plus I still need to see your stream set up that I’ve been hearing about. I’ve only seen part of it and I want to compare.” Noor rubbed her hands excitedly and smiled brightly. “Which one is your room?” 

“The first door on your left,” Robbe said as Senne pointed to it. Noor smiled in thanks before moving that direction. She opened the door with a flourish before closing it behind her. Robbe could hear her shuffling around, likely heading for his desk. 

Before Robbe followed her into his room, he turned to Senne. Despite looking desperate for a change of clothes, Senne was still standing in the foyer beside him, gripping his backpack with one hand. Even though Robbe hadn’t asked the question on his mind, there was a sly, knowing look on Senne’s face, as though he already knew what Robbe was going to ask.

Swallowing, Robbe asked, trying to appear nonchalant, “Is Sander coming too?”

Senne grinned brightly at Robbe before shaking his head. “Not tonight,” Senne said. Disappointment washed over Robbe and he tried his best to keep it at bay. “He switched shifts with Emilie so he could have Friday off. He tried to switch shifts with someone else to come, but he wasn’t able to. But he promised that he would be here for the next one.” 

Robbe nodded. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Senne said, still grinning. As Senne moved toward Zoë’s room to change into more casual clothes, he reached out and snagged the gray blanket from his shoulder. Before Senne fully stepped into her room, he paused, turning to Robbe. “Were you able to find someone to go with you?”

Robbe nodded. “Jens said that he’s going to go with me.” 

“Good,” he said. “If you need someone else, just give me a call and I’ll come with you, too.”

“Thank you, Senne.”

Senne nodded, grinning over at him before disappearing into Zoë’s room. 

* * *

**Maandag 21:32**

Robbe:  _ My hand is so cold. _

Sander:  _ Huh? _

Robbe:  _ My hand is so cold. _ _   
_ _ I couldn’t hold your hand. _ _   
_ _ I had the loveseat all to myself. _

Sander:  _ Oh, I’m sorry _ 🥺   
_ I wasn’t expecting the invitation.  _ _   
_ _ And I really tried to get someone to cover. _

Robbe:  _ I know. _ _   
_ _ I’m teasing you. _ _   
_ _ I just wish you were here. _

Sander:  _ Maybe it’s a good thing I wasn’t. _

Robbe:  _ Why? _

Sander:  _ Because I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.  _ _   
_ _ Our cover would’ve been blown in an instant. _

Robbe:  _ I think it’s the other way around. _ _   
_ _ I wouldn’t have been able to let go of you. _ _   
_ _ I definitely would’ve blown it. _

Sander:  _ Lol, I love your little koala moments. _ _   
_ _ I don’t know how I can stand being apart from you for nearly a whole week.  _

Robbe:  _ It’ll be rough. _ _   
_ _ But at least we’ll have our phones. _

Sander:  _ That’s true. _

Robbe:  _ Maybe I can come to see you when I get back on Friday? _ _   
_ _ We could go out to lunch or something. _

Sander:  _ That sounds great. _ _   
_ _ I can’t wait.  _ _   
_ _ I’ll take you to the best place near the parlor. _

Robbe:  _ I can’t wait :) _ _   
_ _ I wish we could meet up tomorrow. _

Sander:  _ Yeah, but I open tomorrow.  
And I have dinner with a friend after work. _

Robbe:  _ Yeah _ _   
_ _ I know I’ve already said it but I wish you were here. _ _   
_ _ Milan has been singing off-key the entire time. _

Sander:  _ I’ll be there next time.  _ _   
_ _ I’ll hold your hand beneath the blanket. _ _   
_ _ And I’ll hold you ;) _ _   
_ _ And I’ll also sing off-key the entire time. _

Robbe:  _ Well, it’s different with you. _

Sander:  _ How so? _

Robbe:  _ You’re cute when you do it. _

Sander:  _ Just cute? _

Robbe:  _ Cute. _ _   
_ _ Adorable. _ _   
_ _ Hot as fuck. _ _   
_ _ Literally any other synonym. _

Sander:  _ Oh really? _

Robbe:  _ Yes. _ _   
_ _ When Milan sings off-key, he’s just annoying. _

Sander:  _ What are you watching? _

Robbe:  _ High School Musical. _ _   
_ _ The second one. _ _   
_ _ Lucas had to leave after the first one. _ _   
_ _ Which is fine with me.  _ _   
_ _ He and Jens were practically making out the entire last half of the movie. _

Sander:  _ Well, you won’t have to worry about that next time. _

Robbe:  _ How so? _

Sander:  _ Because that’ll be us next time _ 😏   
_ And High School Musical is amazing. _ _   
_ _ I’m sad I missed it. _

Robbe:  _ You can probably convince them to watch it next time too. _

* * *

**Dinsdag 19:12**

When Robbe had messaged Thomas about meeting up, he had chosen a restaurant as the location.

It was one of Thomas’s favorite restaurants near his apartment—and, to Robbe’s relief, within a few minutes walk from the train station. But it had also been the setting of a handful of their dates. For Thomas’s birthday, their six-month anniversary, and a few other occasions, they had celebrated here. 

In typical Thomas fashion, he was late. 

Robbe wasn’t surprised. In all honesty, he had done his best to prevent Thomas’s lateness. He had told Thomas an hour earlier than the time that Robbe and Jens actually arrived at the restaurant. But still, it was over an hour past the time—around the time that Thomas should be arriving—and he still wasn’t here. Even though there were at least three more trains, Robbe was nervous that they would somehow miss the last one.

But Robbe knew that Jens would drag him away before that happened. 

“Robbe, quit it, you’re pacing,” Jens said. Pausing mid-stride, Robbe turned. Jens was leaning against the brick wall of the restaurant. The strap of his duffle bag was across his chest and the bag was wedged between him and the bricks. His hands were buried deep in his pockets. There was a concerned look on his face. “You okay?”

Robbe shook his head, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “No, not until this is over.” 

Jens nodded, understanding written all over his features. He leaned back against the wall and let out a sigh. Robbe knew that Jens didn’t want to see Thomas—and, going a step further, didn’t want Robbe to see Thomas—but Robbe was thankful that Jens had come with him. 

Even though Senne had offered, Robbe didn’t want to think about coming with him. If Robbe knew Senne as well as he thought he did, he would deck Thomas the second that Robbe was interrupted. As much as Robbe sometimes wanted to do it—especially recently—he didn’t want to see Senne in an intense match between lawyers for the next three months or more. 

“Well,” Jens said, crossing his arms across his chest. “Hopefully, we won’t be here much longer and it will all be over soon.” When Robbe sent him a confused look, Jens nodded curtly in Robbe’s direction and announced with disdain, “Look who finally decided to show up.”

Robbe pivoted to find Thomas walking up to them. There was a confused look plastered on his face as he glanced between Robbe and Jens. Thomas was dressed in his typical work suit, this time a black one, with a bright purple tie wrapped around his neck. Robbe felt his eyes linger on the tie. He recognized it—how could he not; Robbe had bought it for Thomas—and Thomas only wore it on certain occasions. When he wanted something. 

Thomas glanced over Robbe’s shoulder. “Hey, Jens.”

“Sup,” Jens said, popping the ‘p.’

Thomas nodded, turning to face Robbe completely. Even as the two of them stood in silence, staring at each other, Robbe could see the question forming deep in Thomas’s eyes. Before he could get the question out, Robbe pulled the silver watch from where he had buried it deep in his pocket. There was a moment where Thomas simply stared at it and Robbe bit down on his lip, trying to figure out what to say. 

Letting out a steadying breath, Robbe held the piece of jewelry out to him. “Here,” Robbe said. “I told you that I didn’t want it.”

Thomas blinked. “And I told you to think about it.”

Robbe sighed. “I did. I still don’t want it.” He dropped the watch into Thomas’s waiting hand, making sure their skin didn’t touch in the process. Once the watch was gone, Robbe shoved his hands into his pockets and swayed on his feet. Thomas held the watch in his hands, gripping it tightly, and Robbe waited for the pin to drop. 

It always happened. 

The long stretch of silence that preceded an argument was familiar to Robbe. In the last few months of their relationship, Robbe had become strikingly aware of it and increased his efforts in avoiding it altogether. He would cater to Thomas’s every need, knowing that it was likely a stressful by-product of his apprenticeship, and put aside his own discomfort or problems to try and lift Thomas’s mood. It was exhausting, draining, and Robbe had burdened it all.

Not anymore. 

“I don’t understand,” Thomas spoke up, pulling Robbe from his thoughts. Robbe blinked up at him, taking in the confused look on his face as he clung to the watch. “Why did you want to meet up in person if you were just going to give the watch back?” 

“I wanted to meet in person…” Robbe trailed off, biting his lip. Robbe knew that he didn’t want to be together with Thomas anymore. Now that he knew the type of love that Sander gave, it was hard to want to go back to tense conversations and awkward silences. Robbe deserved better. He knew it. But that didn’t make the prospect of potentially breaking Thomas’s heart any easier. 

Letting out a sigh, Robbe continued, “I wanted you to know that I mean it when I said I don’t want to get back together with you.”

Somewhere behind him, Jens made a surprised noise. 

Thankfully, Thomas didn’t seem to hear him. For a second, he stared at Robbe, a confused and dazed look on his features. Once it slipped away, it was replaced with his lips turned up in a smile, borderline amused, as though it was all some big joke. Crossing his arms, Thomas asked, light-heartedly, “Why?”

Somehow, it roused the anger in Robbe’s stomach. 

“Because it’s not fair!” 

As soon as the words slipped from Robbe’s mouth, Thomas’s smile faltered and he opened his mouth to talk. But Robbe was speaking again before he had the chance. “You go and break up with me because you were unhappy. But then, you spend three months ‘moving on’ and you drag me around like some easy second option that you want just in case. Then I am finally able to move on and  _ now _ you want to get back together again? It’s not fair, Thomas, and I’m sick of it. I don’t want a relationship with you anymore. End of story.”

Thomas stood in front of him, blinking wildly. Then he snickered and said, “Are you serious, Robbe? Is this because of that guy?” Robbe rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I saw you guys together on Friday. Come on, Robbe. You know as well as I do, nothing beats what we have.”

“Had,” Robbe corrected quickly.

“Huh?”

“Had,” Robbe said, emphasizing the word. “Whatever we had ended when you broke up with me, Thomas. You wanted to break up, not me. If there was a chance that you would change your mind, you shouldn’t have broken up with me in the first place.” Thomas’s face was twisted in shock—and maybe a little bit of anger. “And for the record, it has nothing to do with him. I’m choosing this for me. I don’t deserve to be dragged along and treated that way. Goodbye, Thomas.”

Robbe went to leave, grab Jens and haul ass to the train station. But he noticed Jens pushing himself up off the wall. In one slow motion moment, Jens grabbed Robbe by the wrist and pulled him behind his back, making Robbe stumble along the way. Once Robbe corrected his balance, he realized that Jens had blocked off Thomas, who had his arm held up, frozen in mid air. 

Now, Thomas looked angry. “Move.”

“No,” Jens said. Unlike Thomas, who wore every emotion on his face, Jens masked his anger behind his chilled-out look. Their long years of friendship had allowed Robbe to pinpoint the microexpressions in his features. If Robbe had brought Senne, Thomas definitely would’ve been lying unconscious on the concrete by now. “Robbe said what he wanted to say. Goodbye, Thomas.” 

Wrapping an arm around Robbe’s shoulder, Jens headed away from the restaurant and toward the train station. As they moved away, Robbe could hear Thomas’s footsteps. But it was his plea that made Robbe feel instantly guilty. “Come on, Robbe.”

Robbe stopped walking. For a second, Jens turned to him, a look of disbelief evident in his eyes. But Robbe swallowed the guilt in his throat and turned towards Thomas. While Thomas looked sad and beaten, like a dog that got scolded, Robbe could pinpoint the triumphant look buried in his eyes. It was a look Robbe was familiar with—even if he had been blind to it before. Thomas loved to feel the euphoric high of winning and Robbe was tired of playing his games.

Steeling his nerves, Robbe swallowed again before he managed to say, evenly, “If you show up at the flatshare again, I will call the cops on you. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore and I’m done looking over my shoulder.” Thomas simply stared at him, a defeated look on his face. It was as though Robbe had injured his being and the guilt manifested again. Swallowing it down, Robbe added, “Goodbye, Thomas.”

Leaving Thomas behind, defeated and in shock, Robbe marched on to the train station with Jens right behind him.

* * *

**Dinsdag 19:25**

As the two of them had marched away, Robbe was worried that Thomas was going to follow them, get on the train, and tag along on their vacation. Even after Robbe saw Thomas heading away from the restaurant, away from them, his stomach wouldn’t ease up and continued performing its makeshift dance against his insides. Once they got to the station, Robbe hoped the churning in his stomach would disappear or, at the very least, ease up. But it didn’t. 

Even as Robbe settled down into the uncomfortable cushion of the train’s carriage, across from Jens, his stomach continued to turn. It increased in intensity as the seconds drew on, turning slowly into the minutes that followed. Robbe’s foot shook nervously as he stared out the window. He was searching for signs of Thomas, on the platform or obscured by the shadows, afraid that he would appear, unable to take no for an answer. 

Jens was staring at him, but he kept quiet.

Once the doors locked and the train started to move, Robbe’s stomach tightened. As quick as it started, the surge of pain dissolved in his stomach, tingling behind his belly button. As the train pulled out of the station, and with no Thomas standing on the platform, Robbe sunk into his seat. His shoulders relaxed, releasing the weight that had been on his shoulders since Thomas showed up, and his body slumped into the soft cushion of the booth. 

Robbe could’ve fallen asleep, but Jens kicked his foot, slightly jarring him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jens asked. 

Robbe shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about Thomas,” Robbe said. 

“Not about that,” Jens said, annoyed. Robbe glanced over at him, peeking through his eyelashes. The look of annoyance quickly turned into a knowing grin. “I’m talking about the guy Thomas mentioned. The one he saw you with on Friday. Is he the reason that you didn’t come to the party on Friday night?”

Robbe knew that he could lie about it. It would be easy to slip in a lie about how he went home to relax in the darkness of his bedroom or to recover from exams. But it would never work. Jens had known him far too long to fall for it. Even in moments where Robbe desperately wanted to be on his own, Jens would see through it. Sometimes, he would maintain his distance. Other times, he wouldn’t. 

But Robbe didn’t want to lie to Jens. 

Especially about Sander. 

Avoiding Jens’ curious eyes, Robbe nodded. “Yeah, we met up after I finished my last exam,” he said. “Once we finished eating, we headed back to his apartment. We spent most of the evening playing video games and drinking beer.” 

Jens chuckled. “Is this the guy that had you all smiley in the bar two weeks ago?” 

Biting his lip, Robbe nodded and Jens grinned brightly with a knowing glint in his eye. “Yeah, it’s the same guy. Because of exams and studying, we hadn’t really had a chance to talk about him again,” Robbe said, shrugging. “Mostly, we’ve been texting because of the exams and stuff. But we hung out a couple of times between studying and stuff.” 

“He makes you happy.”

It wasn’t a question. 

It was a statement. 

Feeling his cheeks darken a little, Robbe nodded. 

Jens grinned. “Good. You deserve someone better than Thomas Martens.” 

Rolling his eyes, Robbe leaned back into the cushion of his seat. He could hear Jens tapping away on his phone, likely texting Lucas—or his mom—that they had made it on the train. Letting out a breath to collect his nerves, Robbe added, “If I bring him around sometime next week, do you promise that you’ll go easy on him?” 

Even with his eyes closed, Robbe could tell that Jens was smiling, “If he makes you happy like that, Robbe, you don’t have to worry about me not liking him.” 

* * *

**Dinsdag 20:04**

Before he and Jens arrived at the beach house, Robbe could hear the familiar sound of Moyo’s music. 

As Robbe and Jens approached the house, the rapping tones were turned up loud and booming with a bass that could shake the entire coast. Over the roof, Robbe could see a large wafting cloud of smoke descending closer and closer to the sky. As they headed to the house, Robbe spotted Jens sending him a knowing glance out of the corner of his eye. It wasn’t the first time they had all been to the beach together before and somehow, it felt like nothing had changed. 

Once they stepped around the corner and out of the shadows, they found all five of their companions surrounding the blazing fire. Moyo was talking with Kes, who had an arm thrown over Lucas’s shoulder without a care in the world. Across the fire, Aaron and Jayden were sharing a joint, holding s’mores in their free hands. At the sight of Jens and Robbe, they all shouted unintelligibly.

From his spot beside Kes, Lucas twisted out of his arm and leapt to his feet. Like the others, he was dressed in a short sleeve button-up shirt and a pair of shorts. Despite the minimum amount of lighting, he had a pair of sunglasses on the top of his head and nearly half of the buttons of his shirt were undone. Jens barely had a chance to observe his boyfriend’s appearance before their lips slotted together, quickly and briefly. 

Robbe rolled his eyes, tossing his bag outside the door. “Really? Is it going to be like this all weekend?”

Once their lips disconnected, Jens sent him a ‘Try me’ look. As Kes and Moyo stood from the fire, leaving Aaron and Jayden with their s’mores, Lucas pulled Jens’ duffel bag from his shoulder. With one calculated toss, it landed on Robbe’s bag and tumbled off a few seconds later. Kes appeared over Lucas’s shoulder and Robbe welcomed Kes’s hug. Moyo patted Robbe’s shoulder and high-fived Jens over his head. 

“How did it go with Thomas?” Lucas asked. 

“As good as it could’ve gone,” Robbe said. Jens wrapped an arm around Lucas’s shoulder, pulling him against his chest. Robbe poked him in the shoulder. “You should’ve seen him. For a second, I thought that Jens was going to punch him.” 

“Oh, really?” Lucas asked, turning to Jens, who shrugged. 

“We managed to get to the station without him following us,” Jens said, ignoring Robbe’s comment. Lucas glanced over at Robbe, who raised his eyebrows. “About ten minutes into the train ride, Thomas started texting Robbe again, begging for his forgiveness and to give him a second chance.” Lucas rolled his eyes and Moyo scoffed. “Robbe only opened the messages to block him.”

Lucas turned to Robbe. “Do you think he’ll show up at the flatshare again?”

Robbe shrugged. “I don’t think so, but you never know. I told him I would call the cops if he showed up at the flatshare again. And I texted Milan and Zoë to let them know, so if he decided to show up, they would feel okay with actually doing it.” 

“Good,” Lucas said. Aaron stepped in the spot between Jens and Robbe, nodding over to him. 

“Yeah,” Kes spoke up. In the year Robbe had known him, he had never seen Kes look so serious. His smile was gone from his face and a protective look had replaced it. Jayden appeared over his shoulder, a joint hanging from his lips, and leaned against him. But Kes didn’t shift beneath his weight. “From what Luc’s told me, it basically seems like he’s been harassing you. You deserve better than someone who changes his mind.” 

“Thanks, Kes.”

“It can only get better from here.”

“It’s too sad,” Aaron spoke up. 

“Aaron.” 

“No, I’m serious,” Aaron insisted. “We came to the beach to have a few days away after we finished finals! We are supposed to be having fun and here we are, talking about Robbe’s shitty ex who won’t leave him alone or listen to him. No offense.” Robbe nodded but made a point of rolling his eyes. Looking serious, Aaron pointed at all of them. “And you all know that I’m right.” 

For a second, they were all quiet, standing in a circle outside the beach house. Robbe shifted his weight between his feet and Jens reached out to stabilize him, nearly smacking Aaron on the nose in the process. Then, Moyo grinned wolfishly from ear-to-ear. “I have an idea.”

“What?” Aaron asked. 

Moyo grinned. “Sacrifice Robbe to the ocean!”

“What?!” 

As quickly as he had shouted it, Moyo wrapped his arms around Robbe. His arms were pinned beneath Moyo’s surefire grip. Even though he was stuck, Robbe was still laughing. He tried to kick at his friends but Jens stepped forward, seizing one foot, then the other. He locked his ankles in place, wedged between his arm and his side. As Jens and Moyo lifted Robbe from the ground, Aaron grabbed at his knees to steady him and followed the path of his friends to the beach. Robbe struggled in their grasp, laughs escaping as he tried to wiggle free, and the other three trailed behind, laughing loudly. 

Arriving at the edge of the water, Moyo and Jens stopped. The water lapped at their knees, soaking their shoes and the bottom of their pants. Swinging Robbe back and forth, the two of them counted down until they sent Robbe flying into the ocean water. They hadn’t thrown him far enough for it to be a deep drop, but Robbe was completely submerged. It didn’t take him long to surface, spinning around to find his friends. 

Moyo was laughing loudly, beaming from ear-to-ear with the rest of their friends, and Robbe couldn’t blame him because his own cheeks hurt from laughing. However, it didn’t stop him from shooting the biggest wave of water towards him. Moyo yelped in surprise as Robbe waded out of the water. Once he was close enough, Robbe lunged toward Jens, climbing on his back and covering him with water, as Jens shouted in shock. 

Later, after Robbe changed into a fresh pair of clothes and was in the midst of wringing out the excess seawater from the cloth, he realized that he hadn’t been the only one to go swimming. His phone had too. And it was absolutely ruined. 

* * *

**Dinsdag 22:34**

30 June, 22:34

jensrolt:  _ Hey. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Hey? _

jensrolt:  _ It’s Robbe. _ _   
_ _ Sorry, I don’t know if you responded to my text. _ _   
_ _ But I made it to the beach house and my phone’s ruined. _ _   
_ _ So I didn’t see if you did. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Is that why you’re using Jens’ account? _

jensrolt:  _ Yeah. _

earthlingoddity:  _ What happened? _

jensrolt:  _ I was thrown into the ocean by Jens and Moyo. _ _   
_ _ My phone was still in my pocket. _ _   
_ _ We’re going to try and turn it on tomorrow. _ _   
_ _ But I’m not holding my breath. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Getting a new phone is good though.  _

jensrolt:  _ Yeah, I guess. _ _   
_ _ I just wish I could text you is all. _ _   
_ _ I didn’t even have a chance to check my phone since the train. _

earthlingoddity: _It’s okay. It was out of your control._   
_I was just wishing you a good trip._

jensrolt:  _ Ah, okay. _ _   
_ _ I wish you were here though. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Yeah. Me too. _

jensrolt:  _ Are you okay? _

earthlingoddity:  _ Yeah, I’m okay. _ _   
_ _ Why? _

jensrolt:  _ I don’t know. You seem a little off is all. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Ah sorry. _

jensrolt:  _ There’s nothing to be sorry about. _

earthlingoddity:  _ I just had a rough shift this afternoon.  _ _   
_ _ And then I had dinner with my friend and her parents. _ _   
_ _ But I’m better now that I know you made it safely to the beach house.  _

jensrolt:  _ Yeah, we made it safely. _ _   
_ _ I still wish I was able to text you on my own phone though. _

earthlingoddity:  _ It’s okay.  _ _   
_ _ I’ve got to go to bed. I have an early shift in the morning. _

jensrolt:  _ Ah, okay :( _ _   
_ _ Sweet dreams. _

earthlingoddity:  _ I’m sure that they’ll be of you <3 _

jensrolt:  _ Tell me about them in the morning? _

earthlingoddity:  _ No. _

jensrolt:  _ Why not? _

earthlingoddity:  _ Because you’re on your friend’s Insta remember?  _

jensrolt:  _ Oh right. _

earthlingoddity:  _ But I promise that I’ll tell you all about them when you get back ;) _

jensrolt:  _ Okay. I can live with that. _ _   
_ _ Talk to you tomorrow? _

earthlingoddity:  _ Talk to you tomorrow.  _

* * *

**Woensdag 21:45**

All throughout the day, Robbe kept reaching for his cell phone.

Earlier in the morning, he had reached for his phone, hoping and praying that it would somehow start working again, that all it needed was to dry out, but that hadn’t been the case. It wouldn’t turn on and Robbe was certain that it wouldn’t budge. Once he got back to Antwerp, he would get a new phone. It was no big deal. But Robbe still reached for his phone, hoped with all of his might that it would flip on, and he could text Sander. 

But his phone didn’t respond and the black screen taunted Robbe with its blatant inactivity. 

To Robbe’s immense relief, Jens let him use his phone to check in with his mama the next morning. Even though she insisted that she was fine with him being away, Robbe still worried all the same and wanted to make sure that she was all right. His mama had teased Robbe lovingly and made Jens promise to watch out for him in the same breath. 

Before Robbe surrendered the phone back to its owner, he sent a quick message off to Sander, wishing him a good morning. Robbe didn’t expect anything back at least for a while. It was likely that he was already at the parlor, hard at work, and wouldn’t look at his phone until later. After waiting for several seconds, Robbe handed the phone back over to Jens, who slipped it into his pocket without looking, before he continued his conversation with Kes. 

Unlike his other friends, who would’ve teased him immensely, Jens didn’t bat an eye at Robbe messaging someone on his Instagram. When he handed over the phone, Robbe had seen the quiet question in his eyes but Jens didn’t ask. He didn’t push the information out of him. Jens would wait until Robbe was ready to tell. The only thing that Jens had insisted on was not logging out of his account, on the basis of him being unable to remember his password. Robbe had teased him but he did as he was told. 

Without his phone, the day flew by in a breeze. Once the group had breakfast—made especially by Kes—they had gone out to the carnival on the pier. Naturally, Robbe had won all of the carnival games with Jayden on his heel, while Aaron spent a lot of money on food. After riding a few rides, they headed back to the beach house and immediately went surfing. Robbe had beat them all to the ocean, scoring the first wave, and fell into the water just as much as the rest of them.

But as he watched his friends argue over who was next, Robbe couldn’t stop his brain from thinking about Sander and wishing he were here to hang out with them. 

Once the sun dipped beneath the horizon, they all climbed out of the ocean and took turns in the shower. Kes headed into the kitchen to cook, followed closely by Moyo and Lucas, and the rest of them went outside. While Jayden and Aaron smoked a joint with Jens, Robbe started a fire, lightly adding tissues to kindle the spark. Robbe leaned back and braced himself against the sand, keeping his eyes on the center of the fire.

When Jens’ phone hit his lap, Robbe jumped three feet in the air. His best friend laughed loudly as he sat down in the sand next to him. As Robbe forced his heart rate back down to acceptable levels, Jayden asked, “Are you okay, Robbe?” 

Robbe nodded. “I’m good, Jayden.” 

Jayden cackled, turning back to the laughing Aaron to continue their conversation.

“Thanks for the heads up,” Robbe said. His comment was directed toward Jens, who was laughing behind his hand. Unable to form a coherent sentence, Jens simply shrugged, falling back further into laughter in the sand. Robbe turned to the phone that he collected from the sand. Robbe expected to see a text from his mother, but his heart fluttered faster at the instagram notification.

_ earthlingoddity sent you a message _

Robbe opened it instantaneously.

earthlingoddity:  _ It’s ‘good evening’ now, isn’t it? _

“Thanks,” Robbe said. 

“No problem,” Jens said. He sat up in the sand and crossed his legs beneath him. “I didn’t realize that you were seeing Sander.” Robbe bit down on his lip, glancing over at Jens. Seeing the look, Jens added, “You don’t have to tell me anything else. I’m just being nosy.”

Robbe laughed before saying, “Yeah, I’m seeing Sander.” Jens smiled over at him. “I don’t know if you remember. But he was the guy that I was talking to at the bar where we saw Thomas.” 

“No, I don’t remember,” Jens said. “Well, I remember you talking to someone. I just don’t remember it being Sander.” 

Robbe nodded. “Anyway, when he showed up with Senne and Noor the night we met Jana and the girls, we talked outside and smoked. Then I ran into him at a café the next day. After that, we started talking on Instagram and meeting up.”

Jens nodded. “If you don’t mind me asking, why haven’t you mentioned him before?” Jens asked. He raised and tilted his head to the side. “I mean, we all know Sander and he’s a pretty good guy. When you started dating Thomas, we heard all about him.” 

“That’s why,” Robbe said, letting out a sigh. Jens turned to him, confused, and Robbe continued. “When Thomas and I started dating, our relationship felt so real and I couldn’t wait to introduce you and the Broerrrs and the flatshare to him. But, with Sander…” Robbe trailed off, biting down on his lip.

Stripped of everything else, Robbe’s relationship with Thomas was safe. In the early months of their relationship, Thomas had been warm and open. He talked about his sister’s struggles and his own. Thomas got along with his mom and most of his friends, save Jens, in the final months of their relationship. Whenever they were together, Thomas made Robbe feel safe and warm and accepted. 

But with Sander, Robbe still felt all of those things. The only exception was Sander made him feel like that all the time. From the first moment that Sander had seen him outside that bar, he had been able to look past Robbe’s defenses and see the real him hidden behind the wall. Even through texts, he saw Robbe and listened to what he needed and did his best help him. It was intense and enlightening. Their relationship, still in the newfound stages, was far more accepting and warm than his relationship with Thomas. 

And it thrilled and terrified Robbe in one certain swoop of his stomach.

“It’s so much more intense,” Robbe said, turning to Jens. “In like, every good way that you could possibly think of. But…” Robbe trailed off again, turning to the fire. “I just don’t want to rush things this time. With Thomas, I rushed into it because it felt real and I felt accepted. With Sander, I feel all that and so much more and I just don’t want to fuck it up.” 

“That’s okay, Robbe,” Jens said, patting his shoulder. His expression turned serious as he continued, “And you’re not going to fuck it up. If you want to take things slow, you can take it as slow as you need to.” 

Robbe nodded. “Thanks, Jens.”

“You’re welcome,” Jens said, smiling.

Robbe turned back toward the fire, his eyes trained on the embers. In the past few minutes, it had grown stronger than ever, nearly overcoming the twigs that he had gathered. On the opposite side of the fire, Moyo towered over Aaron and Jayden, holding the withering joint to his lips. Robbe could still see Kes in the kitchen, working at something on the stove, and Lucas walked to the two of them, running a tired hand through his hair. 

Without hesitation, Lucas sunk down into the sand on Jens’s other side. Jens wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him against his chest. Lucas sunk into his boyfriend’s grasp, resting his head against his chest and let out a sigh. Robbe could see the strained look on his face and he wondered, fleetingly, if everything was okay. However, Robbe could see that Lucas didn’t want to talk about it. Trying to force a smile, Lucas asked, “What are you talking about?” 

“Boys,” Robbe deadpanned.

Somehow, a bright grin spread across Lucas’s face, brightening his features. The mere movement was enough to return one to Jens’s face as he cuddled Lucas further against his chest. Grinning over at Robbe with something akin to his Cheshire-Cat-Grin, Lucas said, “Oh! My favorite! Are we finally talking about your mystery guy yet or is he still a mystery?” 

“He’s still a mystery,” Robbe said. “But, hopefully, he won’t be a mystery for much longer.”

“Good,” Lucas said. “I’ve been wanting to meet the new guy you’re so crazy about.” 

* * *

**Woensdag 21:49**

earthlingoddity

1 July, 9:53

jensrolt:  _ Good morning _

1 July, 21:48

earthlingoddity:  _ It’s ‘good evening’ now, isn’t it? _

jensrolt:  _ Yeah. _ _   
_ _ How was your day? _

earthlingoddity:  _ It was okay. _ _   
_ _ Emilie is hosting a special _ _   
_ _ So we’ve been pretty busy.  _

jensrolt:  _ That’s good. _ _   
_ _ Right? _

earthlingoddity:  _ Yeah, we’re getting more business. _ _   
_ _ I’ve just got more hours and more strain on my arm. _

jensrolt:  _ I get that. _ _   
_ _ I can’t imagine drawing on people’s skin all day. _

earthlingoddity:  _ It was nerve-racking at first. _ _   
_ _ But now it’s not so bad. _ _   
_ _ How’s the beach? _

jensrolt:  _ It’s good. _ _   
_ _ Jayden, Moyo, and Aaron are smoking. _ _   
_ _ Kes and I are talking about summer plans. _ _   
_ _ And Lucas just disappeared with Jens. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Sounds like a good time. _ _   
_ _ Getting some time alone. _

jensrolt:  _ Knowing them. Something more. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Even the couple needs to get away. _

jensrolt:  _ Yeah. _ _   
_ _ I’m going to drag Jens in the water. _ _   
_ _ I already warned him. _ _   
_ _ Plus, I want payback. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Just make sure that his phone isn’t in your pocket when you do so, cutie. _ _   
_ _ Or else, I’ll have no way to talk to you. _

jensrolt:  _ I promise that I’ll take it out before _ .   
_ But I could always convince Moyo to let me use his _

* * *

**Donderdag 22:39**

After a full day of surfing and swimming, they settled around the warm fire for their final night at the beach. In addition to ordering pizza, Jens and Jayden disappeared and returned a little while later with two full cases of beer, which were promptly thrown in the fridge to cool. Once the pizza was eaten and the boxes thrown away, the beers returned and were consumed at a breakneck pace. By the time they started telling drunken stories, Robbe had already nursed three bottles of beer. 

But when Zoë texted Jens—or, more accurately, texted Robbe using Jens’s phone—Robbe couldn’t resist the urge to leap to his feet and leave the campfire. 

Taking one final drink of his beer, Robbe rose to his feet as Kes was in the midst of telling a particularly embarrassing story about Jayden. He placed the glass bottle into the collection box they would recycle in the morning and moved in the direction of the beach. Stopping in the middle of a sentence, Kes said, “Where are you going, Robbe? We’re at the best part!”

Moyo wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Off to call your  _ mystery  _ boyfriend?” 

Even buzzed, Robbe managed to roll his eyes. “No, I’m off to call Zoë. Senne was meeting Mama today and I want to see how it went.”

As the rest of their friends let out a drunken, and somehow harmonious, chorus of “Ooo,” Kes nodded with a sure look on his face and declared with finality, “I’ll allow it.” Kes raised up his pointer finger and directed it toward Robbe, adding, “But just this once.” 

Robbe chuckled, heading toward the beach. 

With each step bringing him closer to the beach, the laughter of his friends faded behind him. As much as Robbe wanted to rejoin his friends, he had missed visiting his mama. Though it was likely that his mama had already gone to bed for the night, he wanted to hear about the visit from Zoë, who had been nervous about it. Once Robbe was far enough away, he flopped down on a sand dune and dialed Zoë’s number. 

Zoë picked up on the third ring. “Hello!”

“Hey,” Robbe said, slurring a little. 

Zoë’s melodious laugh sounded over the speaker. “Are you drunk?”

Robbe sighed. “I might be buzzed,” Robbe said. “Slightly.”

“Yeah, ‘slightly’ is enough to slur your speech,” Zoë teased. Through the speaker of the phone, Robbe could hear shuffling. Zoë was moving from somewhere, taking the phone with her, and she hummed a tune. After a few seconds, the shuffling stopped completely and Zoë said, “We missed you at dinner tonight.” 

Robbe chuckled. “Did you?”

“Of course,” Zoë said. “It’s never the same without you, Robbe. You know that.” 

Robbe rolled his eyes, unable to hide the blush warming to his cheeks. For a second, he was thankful that Zoë couldn’t see him. “How did Mama and Senne get along?”

“Swimmingly,” Zoë said. Even through the call, Robbe could tell that Zoë was ecstatic. She had been nervous about this meeting since she put it in place. His mama’s opinion meant a lot to Zoë, just as Zoë’s opinion meant a lot to his mama. “Because of work, Senne ended up being about five minutes late for dinner. To make up for it, he showed up with a bouquet of bright yellow daffodils.” 

Robbe smiled. “Mama’s favorite flowers.” 

“Yes, I don’t even know how he knew that,” Zoë said. She let out a light sigh and Robbe could tell that she was smiling. “During dinner, they didn’t stop talking about Senne’s work or Mama’s work or his roommates or Milan. Mama enjoyed the two of us coming over. But she did mention that she wanted Senne and I to come back next week with you so we can all be together.” 

“Really?” Robbe asked. 

“Yeah,” Zoë said, smiling. “Mama loved having Senne over. Plus, she said that she heard a lot from you about the days when we were all living in the flatshare together.” There was a brief pause. “If you’re okay with it, Senne and I would love to come join you and her for dinner.”

“Zoë,” Robbe said. “You know that you don’t have to ask me, right?” 

“I know, but, she’s your mama and it’s your time with her. I just don’t want to intrude—”

“Zoë,” Robbe interrupted. His roommate, practically his adopted sister, paused on the other end of the line, waiting for him to continue. “She’s your mama too. If you want to come over every Thursday for the rest of the year, you can come every Thursday. If I ever decide that I just want it to be me and Mama, I’ll make plans with her.” 

“Are you sure?” Zoë asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Okay,” Zoë said, sounding relieved. “Maybe next week, you can bring your mystery man. I know that it might be a little too soon, but Senne might still be a little nervous next week. Maybe if you bring your mystery man, Senne won’t be the only one that’s nervous.”

Robbe laughed. “I think that it’s still a little too soon to introduce him to Mama,” Robbe said, letting out a breath. There was no doubt in Robbe’s mind that Sander wouldn’t manage to charm his mother faster than Senne did. “But I’m hoping that he won’t remain a secret for a little while longer.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Robbe said. 

“That’s great! I can’t wait to meet him,” Zoë said. Robbe could tell that she really meant it. “Well, other than being ‘slightly’ buzzed, how’s the beach?” 

* * *

**Donderdag 22:51**

jensrolt:  _ Are you sure you’re okay? _ _   
_ _ You’ve been really quiet this week. _

earthlingoddity: _ I am. _ _   
_ _ It’s just been a long week. _   
_ We got even more customers today. _ _   
_ _ Plus I don’t really know what to say. _

jensrolt:  _ What do you mean? _

earthlingoddity:  _ Like I’m not sure what to say about us. _ _   
_ _ Since it’s not your phone.  _ _   
_ _ I know you want to be a little quiet right now. _ _   
_ _ And I just wanted to honor your wish. _

jensrolt:  _ I’m sorry. _ _   
_ _ I didn’t even think about that. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Robbe, there’s nothing to be sorry about. _

jensrolt:  _ Everyone knows I’m seeing someone. _ _   
_ _ But Jens knows that I’m seeing you. _

earthlingoddity:  _ Really? _ _   
_ _ I know you wanted to keep things quiet. _

jensrolt:  _ Yeah. I just wanted to take it slow. _ _   
_ _ But Jens is my best friend. _ _   
_ _ And I know how protective he can get. _

earthlingoddity:  _ I can imagine that. Considering Thomas. _

jensrolt:  _ What do you mean? _

earthlingoddity:  _ I can just imagine how protective he is. _ _   
_ _ Thomas seems to be determined to get what he wants. _ _   
_ _ I doubt that you got a lot of say.  _ _   
_ _ It would make sense how protective he is. _

jensrolt:  _ That’s true.  _ _   
_ _ But no matter how Thomas moves and manipulates, he’s not getting what he wants. _ _   
_ _ I don’t want him in my life anymore. _ _   
_ _ And he needs to accept that. _

* * *

**Vrijdag 12:21**

Wedged between a jewelry repair shop and a pastel-colored clothing store, the dark exterior of  _ Emilie’s Tattoo Parlor _ stood out amongst the others. The front of the shop was lined with large glass windows and dark-stained bricks. Above the black front door, there was a metal sign sculpted with  _ Emilie’s _ spelled out against the brick. The glass was painted in red paint, depicting the special for the week, and Robbe almost immediately recognized it as Sander’s work. 

Swallowing nervously, Robbe gripped tightly onto his new phone and took a step inside. 

The lobby held a handful of people who were all waiting in plush leather chairs along the windows. The floor was adorned with light wooden panels. Three of the walls were painted a dark gray color and the fourth was the same color as the brick outside. There were framed photos all around the lobby of various designs and inspiration for tattoos. If Robbe looked close enough, he was certain he could find something that was Sander’s work. 

On the other end of the lobby, there were two tall black desks in the corner, positioned to look like a makeshift cubicle. Next to the makeshift cubicle, there was a door that led further back in the store. 

Behind the desk, a woman sat, dressed in a black shirt and a pair of jeans. Her hair had been dyed a shade of electric blue and she beamed at Robbe as he approached. The badge clipped on her shirt had the name  _ Alicia _ printed out in large typewriter letters.

“Welcome to Emilie’s. Did you want to get a tattoo today?”

“Umm, no,” Robbe said. Alicia raised a confused eyebrow as Robbe collected his words. “I’m here to see Sander Driesen.” 

“Ah okay,” Alicia said, staring at him suspiciously. For a second, they were both quiet as Robbe waited for her instruction. Alicia simply blinked at him before a smile cracked on her lips and she said, “And you are? I have to let him know.” 

“Oh, right, I’m sorry. That would probably be helpful,” Robbe said. He ran a hand over his face and Alicia giggled as she turned to reach for the phone. “I’m Robbe. Robbe IJzermans.” 

Once Robbe had said his name, Alicia glanced up, her hand frozen in pursuit of the phone. She grinned at him with a bright smile. She practically raised herself from her barstool, nearly tipping it over as she reached her arm out to shake his hand. “Oh! You’re Robbe! The Robbe, right?” Robbe blinked at her, taking her outstretched hand, and his cheeks flushing. “Sorry, Sander won’t shut up about you and I’m just glad that you’re here. Maybe you can get him in a better mood.”

“What do you mean?” Robbe asked. 

Alicia let out a sigh as she straightened herself back on a stable chair. “He’s been really irritable today,” she said, patting the counter. She pivoted in her seat and pointed to the hall. “He might still be on his lunch break and one of his friends stopped by. His room is the third door on the right. If the door is closed, you can just knock and he’ll let you in.”

“Okay, thank you so much,” Robbe said. Alicia nodded, beaming at him before turning to one of the customers that walked up to the counter to ask her a question. Robbe moved to the doorway, stepping into the hallway. The walls were painted the same dark gray as the lobby and had photos of all shapes and sizes covering every inch. As he walked down the hallway, he spotted open doors where other artists were working with customers. 

As Robbe reached the third door on the right, closed shut, he paused outside the door, his hand raised to knock. As his knuckles made contact with the door, there was the sound of someone pushing a chair back, angrily. Someone—Sander, Robbe realized a second later—said, frustrated as footsteps sounded, “I don’t want to talk about it. Just drop it already.” 

“I just don’t understand, Sander!” a girl said, equally frustrated and angry. Robbe heard the footsteps stop on the other side of the door. “You were so sure on Tuesday! What happened between then and now?” 

“Britt,” Sander said. The bronze knob of the wooden door was turning. Unsure of which way the door was going to go, Robbe took a step back. “I said drop it.” Then, the door was opening, revealing Sander behind it. Sander was dressed in a black t-shirt with a pair of gray skinny jeans and Doc Martens. His hair was all shuffled like he had run his hand through it numerous times. Even though it was fleeting, Robbe managed to catch the panicked look in his eyes. “Robbe.”

“Hi,” Robbe said, nearly choking on his own breath. 

Over Sander’s shoulder, Robbe spotted a flash of yellow and his eyes followed it naturally. Sander pivoted, his shoulder dropping to show the girl sitting on the desk against the opposite wall. She was beautiful, with pencil-straight blonde hair that went to her shoulders. She wore a silver tank top and a pair of shorts that went to her mid-thigh. Her brown eyes went wide at the sight of Robbe in the doorway. At the sight of Jens’s ex-girlfriend, Robbe swallowed and avoided her gaze. 

“Britt,” Sander said, turning to her. Britt glanced at him and Sander nodded toward the door where Robbe was standing at. “You have to get back to your work, don’t you?” 

Even as Robbe remained outside of the room, he could see the heated but silent exchange between them. Robbe couldn’t read the expression on Britt’s face, but he had never been able to before. Quickly, Britt climbed off the desk, grabbing her purse from the back of the chair. As she placed a lid on the plastic container, Sander motioned Robbe inside and he stepped into the room. Britt moved past him, sending Sander a pointed look before disappearing into the hallway. 

Once she was gone, Sander closed the door, leaving the two of them alone. 

Robbe glanced around Sander’s room. There was a large black chair standing in the middle of the room. It was in the seated position, but Robbe knew that it could lean back fully. The walls were painted the same gray as the hallway and the lobby, but Sander had hung posters and record covers all over the walls. Most of them seemed to be David Bowie, but Robbe didn’t recognize a handful of them. 

“What are you doing here?” Sander asked, bringing Robbe out of his thoughts. 

Robbe swallowed. “We had talked about possibly going out to lunch when I got back,” he said. Robbe leaned against the black chair and shoved his hands in his pockets. Robbe could feel Sander’s eyes trained on him. “I should’ve texted or called. But the phone place was close so I thought I would stop by and see you.”

“Sorry,” Sander said.

“Did you want to go after work?” Robbe asked, raising his eyes to look at Sander. When Sander didn’t respond, simply avoiding his gaze by looking at the clock, Robbe felt his chest constrict heavily. Shoving away the instantaneous thoughts in his head, Robbe straightened up, adding, “You were talking about a really good place near here. Once your shift is over, I can come back and we can go out.”

Sander sighed and Robbe’s stomach dropped. “I can’t do today, Robbe,” Sander said. “Emilie had to go home early because her son got sick. She doesn’t know if she’s going to come back. If she’s not able to, I’ll have to close. I’m the only one working today with a key.” 

“Okay,” Robbe said. Biting down on his lip, Robbe took a step forward, hoping to get Sander to at least  _ look  _ at him. Robbe reached out to touch his arm and Sander glanced down at Robbe’s hand. Even though Sander wasn’t looking at him, Robbe could see the hurt and the pain on his face. “What about tomorrow? We can go to the place you were talking about and I can tell you about the beach and everything.”

Sander swallowed, biting his lip. Robbe waited patiently, his nerves gnawing on his stomach and his heart hammering in his throat. When Sander looked up at him, Robbe felt his stomach drop in his chest and a wave of nausea nearly knocked him off balance. Sander’s jaw was locked up and his face was impassive. His green eyes were set on Robbe, locking with his brown ones. Sander swallowed before saying, “My lunch break ends in a few minutes and I’ve got to get my station cleaned up.”

Robbe nodded, swallowing the hurt in his chest. “Ok.”

The seconds drew on between them. Robbe simply stood in front of him, waiting for Sander to move or budge or say anything. As Sander’s green eyes flickered down to Robbe’s mouth, brief and fleeting, hope festered in his gut. The hope burned with an intensity he couldn’t describe as he thought about how much he wanted it. How much Robbe wanted Sander to step forward and press a kiss against his lips and say, “I’m just having a bad day. I’m sorry.”

Robbe tilted his jaw up, trying not to beg. 

But Sander didn’t step forward and kiss him. Instead, Sander turned around. He grabbed hold of the knob and opened the door to the hallway before stepping aside to let Robbe out of the room. The hope in his gut evaporated in an instant, leaving confusion and pain in its place. 

* * *

**Vrijdag 12:24**

Robbe felt numb. 

As soon as Sander closed the door behind him, Robbe fled the tattoo parlor. He didn’t stop to say goodbye to Alicia, who was talking to Britt by the makeshift cubicle. He fled out the front door with a haste that he couldn’t explain, eager to put as much distance between him and the parlor. 

His legs moved, taking him farther and farther away. It felt like something had seized control of his body and moved him through the streets. His emotions were filling his chest, spilling over the brim. His brain vibrated in his skull, on the verge of exploding, taking down a city block or twenty. 

“Robbe!”

What happened?

What did he do wrong?

“Robbe!” 

There was the sound of hurried footsteps behind him. But the voice sounded fuzzy and slurred beyond recognition. Robbe just knew that it wasn’t Sander who was shouting for him. The voice was lighter than Sander’s deep bass and he didn’t want to turn around if he wasn’t Sander. If he turned around, he would have to face what happened—or what didn’t happen. If he did, the impending explosion of his brain—and his heart—would become real.

“Robbe!”

This time, the shout of his name was accompanied by a hand on his shoulder. It pulled him to a stop, forcing him to turn around. Robbe found Britt standing behind him, holding her sandals tightly in her hand. She shifted from one foot to the other at a frequent pace. Once Robbe had stopped, reaching up to wipe away the wetness at the corner of his eyes, Britt used his shoulder to balance herself as she slipped her sandals back on her feet. Britt straightened her tousled hair and her brown eyes flickered over his face. 

“I’ve got to get home, Britt,” Robbe said, running a hand through his hair. 

“It’s okay, I’ll be quick,” Britt said. “I just wanted to talk to you about Sander.”

“Britt, I—” Despite trying to keep his voice steady, the words got caught in his throat. There was a look on Britt’s face and Robbe knew that she could sense his frustration and pain. Even though Britt had dated Jens, they were still somewhat comfortable with each other. They had known each other for years. Swallowing, attempting to return his voice to normal, Robbe turned back to Britt. “I can’t—I don’t feel up to talk about Sander right now. Especially with you. We haven’t seen each other since high school.” 

“I know, but it’s important,” Britt said, determined. “What about tomorrow afternoon? If you want, we can meet up, have coffee, and catch up.” 

“Britt, I still don’t understand.”

“Robbe,” Britt said. Robbe paused, letting out a breath. There was something in her voice, her insistence to meet up. If he argued, Robbe had a feeling he wouldn’t win. Even though Robbe couldn’t imagine what they would talk about, he had a feeling that she wouldn’t leave without him agreeing to meet up. Glancing around, Britt took a step closer to him, whispering under her breath, “Please.”

Staring at her, Robbe let out a frustrated breath. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Britt echoed. Robbe glanced at the buildings around them. None of the shops seemed familiar and Robbe didn’t know where he had gone in his numb state. Biting down on his lip, he turned, trying to find a street sign to give him an idea. Britt took a step away from him. There was a worried look on her face, barely visible beneath the mask she used to wear. “I’ll message you on Insta later and we can set up a time. Okay?”

Unable to form a response, Robbe nodded and Britt stepped away. 

Before Britt disappeared completely, she paused. Britt turned back toward Robbe, who was still rooted in the same spot. For a second, she hesitated, before she said, “It’s going to be okay.”

Somehow, Robbe doubted her statement. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are fuel <3
> 
> I also don't know what to put here. See you next chapter!!


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

**Zaterdag 11:29**

* * *

As soon as Robbe had ended his stream on Friday night, he collapsed against his bed. He curled in his sheets, wrapping the gray fabric around him like a cocoon. He started a video that he had seen a hundred times on his phone and simply laid there, letting the familiar words wash over him. The words floated around him, blending into white noise, as Robbe stared at the ceiling. 

If Robbe drifted into sleep, he couldn’t remember.

As time drew on, Robbe saw Sander. Well, he didn’t physically see Sander, but it was like he was painted on the ceiling, simply staring down at Robbe. There was an emotionless, guarded expression on his face and his hands were buried deep in his pockets. The image was all that Robbe could see. It was etched on the inside of his eyelids. Even when Robbe pulled himself from his bed to go to the bathroom, Sander’s image lingered in the back of his mind, the memory of the tattoo parlor hitting him in full force. 

And, just like that, his alarm was going off. 

Robbe jolted out of bed, trying to find his phone in the midst of his tangled sheets. His cord was twisted around his chest and his phone fell on the floor in his attempt to unravel himself free. Once Robbe was free of the blasted cord, he reached for his phone. Thankfully, the screen was still intact. Robbe did not want to deal with replacing the screen on his brand new phone.

The words on the alarm shined up at him:  _ Meet Britt.  _

Meeting Britt.

Right.

It was how he ended up here.

The address that Britt sent him was to a local café about five minutes away from the flatshare. It was a small place, with wicker seats outside with large tan umbrellas over them. Robbe spotted Britt inside at the counter, talking with the working barista. As Robbe stepped into the café, Britt glanced up at him before asking, “What do you want to drink?”

Robbe swallowed. “Coffee. Just regular coffee.”

The barista nodded, moving to serve his coffee. Once the barista was gone, Robbe turned to Britt, who was putting sugar in her coffee, her pencil-straight blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She was dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a dressy tank top. In all honesty, Robbe thought she looked like she was ready to walk on a runway in Paris, not meet up with him at a small café in Antwerp. 

Swallowing, Robbe asked the question that had been lingering behind the image of Sander, the one question that he couldn’t seem to run away from. “Are you and Sander seeing each other, Britt?” 

As the barista returned, Britt glanced up, surprised, as she handed the money over and waved off Robbe trying to pull his wallet from his pocket. “Be honest with me, please,” Robbe said, pleading. 

Britt let out a sigh, turning to him fully. “Sander and I aren’t dating,” Britt said matter-of-factly. “We did in high school, briefly. While we dated for over six months, we probably should’ve only dated for two. At the end of the day, we weren’t good for each other and we still aren’t. We’re better off as friends.” Britt grabbed her coffee, and Robbe’s, before moving over to a table. Robbe scrambled after her. “Occasionally, he poses as my on-again, off-again boyfriend for the occasional dinner with my parents, but we aren’t actually dating.”

“Seriously?” Robbe asked. 

Britt nodded, placing their coffees down on the table. “Seriously.” Robbe slumped down in one of the chairs as Britt sat down across from him. A minuscule amount of the weight lifted from his shoulders. There was still so much left, but Robbe felt lighter all the same. “Occasionally, he holds my hand, but it’s all an act. Most of the time, it’s just to stop me from picking a fight with my parents.”

Robbe nodded, ignoring the momentary twist in his stomach. Taking a sip of his coffee, he leaned his elbows against the table. “If you and Sander aren’t together, why did you want to talk with me?” 

Britt let out a small sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. There was a worried look on her face, faint and barely there. Britt was a little like Jens. She concealed her emotions effortlessly. “After leaving my parents’ house Tuesday, Sander and I talked about you. Or, rather, he talked and I listened.” Robbe nodded as a feeling of impending doom rested on his stomach. “When he talked about you, and what you guys did together and how you made him feel, he sounded so certain. After such a long time looking, he had found the one.”

Robbe swallowed, the impending doom intensifying. “And then?”

Britt was quiet, staring into her coffee as though it held all the secrets in the world. After eight frantic heartbeats, Britt answered quietly, her voice so faint that Robbe almost missed it. “I don’t know.” Robbe glanced up at her, seeing the pained expression on her face. “He started texting me more during the week and he seemed off. I wasn’t surprised because we always tend to lean on each other when we feel off. On Thursday, he texted me that he was ‘wrong’ but didn’t tell me what he meant. That’s why I showed up at the tattoo parlor yesterday for lunch. I was trying to figure out what happened, but Sander kept telling me to drop it.” 

Robbe nodded, staring down at his coffee. “Yeah, I think I heard that part of the conversation.” 

“Yeah,” Britt said. “I don’t know what happened, but I know that he’s just trying to protect himself.” She took a sip of her coffee before letting out a heavy sigh. “When we were dating, there were a lot of things that I didn’t understand about Sander. Even once I learned more about him, I still didn’t understand. It wasn’t until we stopped dating and started being friends that I began to understand them. He’s always been afraid the people close to him are going to leave him. When he fears they might, he falls back into that self-destructive spiral.”

Robbe sighed. “What did I do to make him feel like I would leave him?” He paused, biting down on his lip before asking, “What can I do to show him that I won’t?” 

Britt looked up at him sadly. “I don’t know if you can do anything, Robbe,” she said. “But I know Sander well enough to know that you didn’t do anything to him. I didn’t want you to think that it was something you did.”

“It’s a little too late for that, Britt,” Robbe said. 

“I know,” Britt said. “It’s why I was hoping to talk to you yesterday.”

Robbe swallowed, pinching his nose. “What if I did do something?” 

Britt reached across the table, taking Robbe’s hand. Once he looked up at her, Britt said, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Robbe.” Robbe wanted to fight back, because he must’ve done  _ something  _ to make Sander look at him like that but the look of sincerity on Britt’s face made him pause. Robbe nodded and Britt relinquished his hand. After a few minutes of silence, Britt spoke up, asking, “So, has Moyo introduced Noor as the girl he’s seeing yet or are they still being secretive?”

Robbe stared at her in disbelief, blinking a couple of times. “I knew it.” 

Britt laughed. 

* * *

**Zaterdag 12:01**

* * *

Sander

04 July, 12:01

Robbe:  _ I don’t know what happened, Sander _ _  
_ _ But I need you to know that I want you. _ _  
_ _ If you feel up to it. _ _  
_ _ Please text me back. _

* * *

**Zondag 9:24**

* * *

This morning, his roommates were quiet—scarily quiet. 

Even when they’re tired and groggy, they still tend to be noisy and rowdy. In the quiet moments of breakfast, there was always some form of discussion—mostly because Milan doesn’t like silence. If they weren’t talking about their weeks or their plans for the day, Milan would launch into a story about something that happened at the club. If that didn’t start a conversation, he would take it one step further and start to be invasive, asking about their respective sex lives or talking about his own. It always worked to start a conversation.

Today, however, they were all completely quiet. In addition, none of their boyfriends were joining them. For the first time in weeks, it was just the four of them. On weekends, there was always one. But Jonathan wasn’t there to cook them a fancy breakfast, Senne wasn’t there to poke Zoë’s cheeks or give Robbe knowing glances, and Jens wasn’t there to tell outrageous stories of what happened at the bar last night. It was just the four of them.

It didn’t help that all of them took turns glancing at Robbe. 

“Guys,” Robbe said, unable to take it any longer. Lucas glanced up at him from his plate of pancakes and Zoë tried not to look suspicious as she glanced at him. As he sent a worried look at him, Milan grabbed the bowl of fruit and put some grapes on his plate. Robbe let out a heavy breath, running a hand through his hair. “I’m tired of you all looking at me like I’m going to explode, just spit it out.” 

Zoë glanced at the other two before she turned fully to Robbe, abandoning her plate of pancakes and fruit. “Robbe,” Zoë said, reaching out to take his hand. Robbe swallowed, gripping onto her hand. He could feel Lucas and Milan’s worried gazes on him. “We’re just worried about you is all. Since you got home on Friday, you’ve been locked in your bedroom. What’s going on?”

Staring down at his plate, Robbe let out a sigh. It was shaky and Robbe knew it, struggling to maintain his emotions in the glass jar he kept them in. As Robbe struggled to figure out what to say, Zoë squeezed his hand tighter, rubbing circles on the back of it. Finally, Robbe said, brokenly, “I don’t know what to do.”

“About your ‘mystery man’?” Milan asked. 

There was a concerned look on Milan’s face as he stared at Robbe. Gripping Zoë’s hand a little tighter, Robbe nodded. “Yeah, it’s about him.”

“What happened?” Lucas asked, setting his fork down. Despite Lucas’s diehard love for Zoë’s pancakes, he practically abandoned them on the plate. He crossed his arms in front of him. “You and Jens were just talking about him the other day.” 

“I don’t know,” Robbe said, shaking his head. “I was planning on introducing him to you as my boyfriend this week and he seemed excited about it—nervous, but excited. While we were away, I noticed that he was acting a little strange but I thought it was just because I was using Jens’s account. But when I dropped by his work for lunch on Friday, Sander was acting completely cold and I don’t know what I did to make him act like that.”

“Sander?” Milan asked. 

Robbe nodded, running a hand through his hair. 

“Sander?” Zoë echoed. Raising his head, Robbe met the knowing look in her brown eyes. But Robbe could tell that she was stopping herself from saying something else. She glanced over to Milan, who had a scandalized look on his face. Robbe gripped her hand a little tighter and Zoë asked, “Sander, as in Senne’s best friend Sander?” 

“Yeah,” Robbe said, nodding his head. “That’s him.” Robbe let out a sigh before running both of his hands over his face. Zoë’s hand dropped to Robbe’s knee, rubbing her thumb soothingly on his knee. “I just—I don’t know what I did.”

“I’m sure you didn’t do anything,” Zoë said.

“You didn’t see him, Zoë,” Robbe said, his voice wavering again. Zoë gripped his knee a little harder and Milan placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Robbe’s vision blurred, temporarily, and he swallowed, running his hands over his face again. “When he saw me on Friday, he looked so panicked, like he didn’t expect me to be there and he acted like he didn’t want me around. It was like I was looking at a completely different person—” 

Robbe swallowed down his next thought. 

It was like they never happened. It was like Robbe imagined it all. Their picnic beneath the stars, their kiss at the mural, waking up in Sander’s bed—twice—learning to play Pokémon and drinking beer between kisses. It was all there in Robbe’s mind, all memories that he had lived through and experienced. Sander had tried to act like it never happened—like they never happened. However, Robbe wondered if that’s what he really saw or if that’s what he hoped that he saw. 

Robbe knew what Britt had said yesterday. But what if she was wrong? What if Sander wasn’t trying to protect himself? What if he just changed his mind?

Zoë stood up from her chair, moving over to Robbe. She wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders and held him tightly. To give him a proper hug, she practically had to sit on his lap and Robbe scooted to the side of the chair so she could sit down properly. “Just give him some time,” Zoë said, quietly. “I’m sure it’ll all be okay.” Robbe nodded his head and Zoë pulled away. There was a serious look on her face. “Do you want me to ask Senne what happened?”

Robbe shook his head. “No,” Robbe said, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ll be fine.”

“Do you have a picture of this Sander?” 

“Milan!” Zoë said, sounding scandalized. Robbe snorted, unable to contain it. 

“What?” Milan asked. There was a triumphant look on his face as Robbe pulled his phone from his pocket. As soon as he opened Instagram, he typed in Sander’s username to pull it up. “I’ve been hearing about this elusive mystery man for weeks, Zoë. Now that I have his name, I am curious to see what he looks like as well.” Robbe scrolled through the photos with Zoë hovering over his shoulder. Opening up the black-and-white photo of Sander in a white hoodie, Robbe relinquished his phone to Milan. 

As his ‘guru’ looked over the photo extensively with Lucas, Zoë wrapped Robbe into another tight hug and Robbe sunk into her embrace. 

* * *

**Maandag 14:51**

* * *

As Robbe headed toward the park with Lucas by his side and his skateboard tucked under his arm, he glanced at the world around him. 

The sun shined down with its warm, bright waves and a slight wind rustled the emerald green leaves on nearby trees. Students of all levels were out in the park, enjoying their summer vacation. Some were taking the opportunity to sunbathe and others were reading books beneath the shade of the trees. There were a few families as well, pushing strollers and guiding small children toward the playground. 

Even the skate park, a little further in and surrounded by tall trees, was full. Or, well, fuller than usual on a summer afternoon. There was someone performing tricks on a bike, helmet clipped on his head, as he shot up and down the ramps, twisting in ways that made Robbe’s heart drop in his stomach. There were several groups of skaters, talking to one another with ease. On the other side of the skate park, there was even someone taking pictures, their gray jacket pulled over their head and camera to hide their face. 

The sight of the camera made his heart pang as he thought of Sander—the one person he was trying to avoid thinking about right now. Everything and everyone around him was bright and happy without a care in the world; and Robbe was simply miserable.

It was Robbe’s own head and he knew it too. All of the miserable feelings in his stomach were the cause of his own doing. 

To try and not think of Sander—of his guarded expression on Friday and the unanswered but seen text from Saturday—Robbe had decided to edit down some streams to pass the time before his next one. Normally, Robbe would put out a smaller video on YouTube in the days following the stream. With exams and the beach trip, however, he was behind. The first one wasn’t bad, but by the time he reached the third one, Robbe had noticed the happy, gleeful look on his face and realized the cause: Sander.

Despite Robbe’s need for normalcy, to stream as though nothing was happening, he knew he couldn’t stream—at least not right now. If Robbe looked as down as he felt on the inside, his viewers would notice in a heartbeat. Even though Robbe wanted to plow through and continue streaming, he knew that he could stream at a later time tonight, feeling a little better and refreshed. It was why he texted his friends. It was why they were at the skate park now. 

Jens was sitting on the edge of one of the ramps with his board behind him. Moyo and Aaron were on his left side, shooting shit and badgering away. As soon as Lucas and Robbe entered the skate park, Jens spotted them, moving to get off the ramp. Robbe pivoted toward Lucas, who mirrored his move, seemingly anticipating his question. 

“What did you tell him?” Robbe asked. 

“Just that you were upset at breakfast,” Lucas said, holding his skateboard in one hand. “I figured that you would want to be the one to tell him.”

Robbe nodded. “Yeah, thank you.”

Lucas grinned slightly, turning to receive Jens’s brief and fleeting welcoming kiss. Once the couple pulled away, a silent conversation exchanged between them, Lucas smiled over at Robbe before leaving the pair alone. Lucas tossed his board to Moyo before lifting himself onto the ramp. He plopped down in Jens’s vacant seat and immediately joined in on the conversation.

Robbe turned back to Jens, who was simply staring at him. His arms were crossed over his chest and there was a knowing look in his eyes. “Is there anything you want to tell me?” 

“Why would you think that?” Robbe asked.

Jens gave him a look that practically screamed ‘Are you serious?’ “Robbe, you’re at the skate park at 14:00 when you are normally streaming right now,” Jens said, raising an eyebrow. “Add in the fact that Luc said you were upset yesterday at breakfast and you have a simple case of ‘something’s wrong.’” 

“Are you going to be a doctor now?” Robbe asked. 

“No, but I am your best friend,” Jens said, serious and sullen. “I can still tell when something’s wrong with you, Robbe. Especially since you look so different than the last time I saw you.” At the mention of his name, Robbe sighed heavily and Jens noticed it immediately. His eyebrows furrowed together as he asked, “Did something happen?”

“Yeah,” Robbe said, swallowing the knot in his throat. “When I showed up at the tattoo parlor on Friday, Sander acted really cold toward me. It was like he didn’t want me around anymore. When I asked if we could hang out after his shift, he blew me off.” Robbe sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “After I left, Britt ran after me and wanted to meet up to talk…” 

“Britt? As in my ex-girlfriend, Britt?” Jens asked, raising an eyebrow. His tone quickly turned angry. “And what did she have to say?”

“She just wanted to talk about Sander,” Robbe said, letting out a breath. “About how he had told her about me and about how I was the ‘one,’ but that something happened and I didn’t do anything.” Jens’s angry look quickly shifted to a softer one as Robbe sighed. “But I don’t know if she was just saying what she said to make me feel better or what. I texted Sander to let him know that I wanted to be with him. But he didn’t respond.”

Jens nodded. “Do you think he’s going to?”

“I don’t know,” Robbe said. “But I don’t want to talk about it right now, Jens.” His best friend raised an eyebrow. “I just want to hang out with my friends and put it out of my brain, at least for right now. I need to stream in a few hours and I can’t right now because I just feel so…” 

“Okay,” Jens said. Robbe moved to step around him and move in the direction of their friends. At the last second, Jens stepped in front of him, holding a finger to his face. “But you have to promise me that you’ll come to me when you’re ready to talk about it, okay?”

Looking up at Jens, Robbe nodded. “I promise. I’ll come talk to you about it, just not today, okay?” 

With a final nod, Jens stepped out of his way. With one final movement, he reached up, taking Robbe’s backpack off his shoulders. Without even glancing, Jens tossed it to the pile of backpacks located at the base of the tree, which held Jens and Moyo’s. Then, Jens pushed Robbe toward their friends. “Come on, Aaron,” Jens said, interrupting their conversation without a care. “I hope you’ve been practicing because Robbe still hasn’t seen this magnificent trick of yours.” 

Aaron glanced up, reaching for his skateboard. “You haven’t?”

“I have not.” 

“You can do this, Aaron,” Lucas said, fist pumping. 

“Aaron, Aaron!” 

* * *

**Maandag 17:42**

* * *

After sweating for over an hour, with Robbe stumbling off his skateboard at least twice (to the amusement of his friends), Jens stepped up and announced to the entire skate park that he wanted fries. As each of their stomachs collectively growled, they collected their bags from the shadow of the tree before leaving the park. At the nearest of Jens’s favorite restaurants, they got two massive plates of fries and placed them between them. 

As they chowed down on their fries, they decided to play a game of “This Or That,” going around the table with each question. At first, the questions were simple and relatively easy to answer. There would be questions about their taste in beverages or, as Moyo said, “beer or coffee.” But as the quantity of fries on their plates started to diminish, Aaron asked Robbe to choose between his stream and skating—and Robbe flipped him off, unable to answer the question correctly. Moyo was asked to choose between his dancing and gaming—he chose the former. Aaron was asked to choose between Amber and the Broerrrs; he looked on the verge of melting into a puddle. 

Once the plates were empty and the final question landed on the chilled-out Jens, Moyo said smugly, “Wait, I have the perfect question for Jens!” Jens raised an eyebrow and Lucas chuckled to his right. “Fries or Lucas?”

“Lucas,” Jens said without hesitation. He shrugged as though it wasn’t akin to a marriage proposal. “But fries would be a very, very close second.” 

“Aww, babe!” Lucas cooed. 

Jens rolled his eyes dramatically and said, “Never mind, fries win, hands-down, no competition.” He was joking and all of his friends knew it. But no one knew it better than Lucas, who nuzzled against Jens’s neck like a cat, and Jens let him without a fuss. 

Once the plates of fries were wiped clean, Robbe announced that he needed to get back to the flatshare to stream. The last few hours with his friends had been relaxing to say the least and he was eager to get home to shower. As soon as the words had left his mouth, his friends—mostly Moyo—begged to have them on stream again because it had been so long since they had all been together. 

But today was the first time in a while where all of the Broerrrs were all free. And Robbe couldn’t pass that up. Robbe told them to connect with him through Discord a few minutes before 18:00 so he could check the sound before he started the stream. Once they had all agreed, they all headed home except for Lucas, who went home with Jens. After leaving the restaurant and his friends, Robbe raced back to the flatshare, hoping to get home before Zoë so he could claim the shower. 

Thankfully, she wasn’t home quite yet. 

Once Robbe locked the front door, he made his way into his bedroom. He tossed his skateboard onto his bed and his backpack on the foot of the bed. Once he grabbed his towel from the back of his door, he moved in the direction of the bathroom, already anticipating his steamy shower. After a long shower, Robbe returned to his bedroom, relaxed and refreshed. Robbe dried off quickly and slipped into his favorite streaming clothes before sitting down to set up.

As Robbe finalized the set up, he heard the front door swing open. Robbe could hear Zoë’s heavy sigh—a telltale sign of a long and stressful day—and heard her moving around in the hallway. For a second, she stopped outside Robbe’s door before she poked her head inside his open door. She held a folded paper in her fingers. “Robbe, is this yours?”

“Huh?” Robbe asked. “I don’t know what that is.”

“Oh,” Zoë said, stepping inside his bedroom. Robbe could see the exhaustion on her face as she moved to him. Once she handed him the paper, she undid the black apron from around her waist. “It was on the floor in the hallway. You were the only one home so I figured it was yours and had fallen out of your—” Before she could continue, Zoë yawned loudly as she stretched. 

Robbe shrugged, opening up the piece of paper, and his mouth went dry.

It was  _ him _ . Well, sort of. Robbe recognized that it was supposed to be him on the paper, but the cartoon-figure in front of him was hardly an accurate representation. His hair curled at the ends and his freckles were the same. In the drawing, he was wearing a normal coat over a t-shirt with a poke ball symbol on it and a pair of denim jeans. He wore a beanie with a similar design to his shirt and had a belt with actual poke balls on his waist. 

Directly behind the boy, there was a large bird with armored wings and Robbe recognized the figure immediately from Sander’s drawings—Corviknight. The armored bird towered over Robbe with its wings folded in. The large bird glared menacingly off to the side, but his character didn’t seem to be afraid of it. In fact, he seemed to trust it. 

Located below the drawing, there was a sentence written in neat handwriting, which Robbe recognized immediately, letters curling together smoothly, saying: “Stronger than steel; Pokémon Trainer Robbe IJzermans and his trusty Corviknight.” 

Sander.

While he had only seen a handful of his cartoon humans, Robbe was still able to determine that it was Sander’s work. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind. Plus, Sander was the only one who knew about Robbe wanting a Corviknight, how he had giggled the second that Robbe had run into it in the game. But if he had any doubts, the handwriting beneath it would’ve sealed the identity of the artist. Robbe recognized Sander’s elegant handwriting from some of the sketches in his room. 

Zoë stopped stretching. “Is it yours?”

Robbe swallowed. “Yeah, it’s mine. Thank you for finding it.”

“You’re welcome,” Zoë said, moving to leave. “After my shower, I’m going to make dinner. Do you want me to bring you some food?” Robbe shook his head, thanking her. Once Zoë left his room and shut the door behind him, Robbe glanced down at the picture in his hands. He ran his thumb over the picture, brushing over the Corviknight. Letting out a sigh, Robbe placed the drawing against one of his picture frames before turning back to his computer. 

For a split second, Robbe wondered if Sander would be watching the stream, but he quickly put the thought from his mind. 

* * *

**Maandag 21:22**

* * *

Sander

6 July, 21:22

Robbe:  _ Hey, I found your drawing. _ _  
_ _ I really love it. _ _  
_ _ Can we talk? _ _  
_ _ I can come by your apartment if you want. _

* * *

**Dinsdag 17:43**

* * *

Sander’s apartment building was beautiful. 

The building was five stories, with large glass windows Robbe knew led into the living room, and black siding mixed with red brick. Inside the black gates, there was a beautiful courtyard that led to the front door, with benches and beautiful, manicured gardens. There were bike racks outside the gates, but Robbe couldn’t tell if Sander’s was there or not. But before Robbe could even step into the courtyard, he would have to buzz the apartment or put in a code on the small keypad, which Robbe was only somewhat certain about the first two numbers.

And Robbe didn’t know if Sander was home, or if Sander would even want to see him.

The texts that Robbe sent last night had been unanswered—read, but unanswered. It was like his texts from Saturday all over again. They had been seen, they had been opened, but Sander didn’t respond. He didn’t respond to Robbe saying that he loved the drawing or his plea to talk or his offer to come by the apartment. For a brief second, Robbe had considered messaging him again, but he threw the idea away. 

So, why was he here, standing outside of Sander’s apartment complex?

Robbe wasn’t sure. 

In thirty minutes, Robbe was going to have dinner with his dad at a small steak restaurant a block away. It was the first time that they would be having dinner in two months and Robbe didn’t want to be late. As soon as his stream was over, Robbe had left the flatshare, bidding goodbye to Zoë, and headed out. But as Robbe passed by Sander’s apartment building, he halted to a stop and couldn’t leave. Now, he was nearly thirty minutes early and rooted in front of Sander’s building, staring at the number 515.

If he pressed the button and Sander answered but didn’t let him in, Robbe would have his answer. Sander didn’t want to speak to him. Sander didn’t want him. Sander didn’t want anything to do with him. And maybe, just maybe, that was what Robbe was afraid of. 

Robbe swallowed his nerves, pressing the button labeled 515. For a few seconds, the panel rang. With each new ring, Robbe’s stomach dropped a little further and a wave of nausea hit him. The line cut in the middle of a ring and a deep voice sounded over the speaker, “Hello?”

Robbe’s stomach dropped—but he wasn’t for sure if it was relief or disappointment. “Senne?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Senne spoke, his voice staticky through the speaker. Robbe swallowed, unable to voice the question. Thankfully, he didn’t have to sit there any longer because Senne spoke up again. “Sander isn’t here.” 

Robbe’s shoulders deflated. “Oh, okay, I’ll just leave then. Thank you.”

“Wait, Robbe,” Senne said. Robbe paused. “Come on up. You can wait for him in the living room.” 

As soon as the words were out of the speaker, the panel buzzed and the black gates opened. Letting out a sigh, Robbe stepped into the courtyard and shut the gate closed behind him. The lobby was empty and he made a beeline for the elevator on the opposite end. 

Once Robbe stepped inside the elevator and pressed the number 5, it rose to its destination, taking Robbe with it. The numbers switched rapidly from 1 to 2 and, eventually, to 5. Soon after, the elevator slowed to a stop, throwing Robbe for loop as a small shock of gravity washed over him. Once he stepped out into the hallway, his eyes caught sight of the door down the hall—number 515—and walked toward the apartment. 

As soon as Robbe knocked on the front door, it swung open slowly with the force of his knock, and Robbe pushed it open a little more to expose the entire apartment. Like his other visits to their flatshare, the open living space was beyond pristine, with gray furniture and a spotless marble kitchen. There were a handful of canvases and artwork hung on the walls and pictures in frames. 

“Hey.” Senne was standing in the door frame to the kitchen, holding a cup of coffee in his hand. He was still dressed in his work clothes, his tie undone around his neck. Robbe nodded as he closed the door behind him before stuffing his hands in his pockets. There was a knowing look on Senne’s face as he scanned him over with a hurried look. Slowly, Senne straightened up before saying, “Zoë told me what happened between you and Sander.”

“She did?” Robbe asked. 

Senne nodded, taking a sip before moving into the living room and sitting on the couch. Robbe followed after him. As he passed by the hallway to the bedrooms, he snuck a glance, internally hoping Sander might burst out of his room. But there was only one set of keys on the small table in the foyer. Senne was the only one home. “Yeah, we met up yesterday for lunch. She asked if I knew anything about what happened between the two of you,” Senne said. 

Robbe sighed, sitting down on the arm of the armchair. “I told her not to do that.”

“She’s just worried,” Senne said. “But I didn’t relieve any of her stress. I don’t know anything either.” Robbe glanced at him, confused. Without even sparing a look at him, Senne added, “He’s shut me out too. Sander goes to work and comes back. When he’s home, he shuts himself in his room and only leaves to eat, which he hardly does. Every time I try to talk to him, he shuts me out a little more.” 

“Oh,” Robbe said. “So you don’t know what I did to make him act like this?”

Senne glanced up at him, shocked. “Robbe, you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“How do you know that, Senne?” Robbe asked. Senne turned to fully face him. “How do you know that? Because all I know is that before I went to the beach house, we were talking about introducing each other to our friends and now, he won’t even answer my text messages. It’s like we never even happened—like he just changed his mind about us.” 

“Robbe,” Senne said. “I might not know what’s going on with Sander. But I know that you couldn’t have been the cause of it. Since the moment that you and him talked outside the bar, Sander has been physically incapable of shutting up about you—and I say that in the nicest way possible.” Robbe’s cheeks flushed brightly and Senne chuckled. “Robbe, Sander feels so much for you. He couldn’t have changed his mind about being with you.”

Robbe let out a sigh. “Why is he avoiding me then?”

Senne shook his head, biting down on his lip. “In all honesty, I can’t be 100 percent sure, Robbe. There’s been a few times where he’s shut everyone out to protect himself. But he’s not protecting himself. He’s hurting himself because he’s cutting himself off from everyone. But he might be trying to protect you, too.” 

Robbe swallowed. “From what?” 

There was a conflicted look on Senne’s face as he glanced down at his mug. Before Senne could say anything, Robbe’s phone vibrated in his hand. Robbe jumped, glancing down to find a message from his father. 

Papa:  _ I’m at the restaurant.  _ _  
_ _ We’ve got a table near the back.  _ _  
_ _ Are you almost here? _

Once Robbe glanced back at Senne, he was taking another sip of his coffee. “Who is it?” Senne asked. 

“My dad,” Robbe said. “I was on my way to meet him for dinner when I decided to stop and see…” he trailed off, too embarrassed to continue. The ‘if Sander was home’ hung in the air between them, but the look on Senne’s face told him that his friend knew and understood. 

Placing his mug down on the coffee table, Senne stood to his feet as Robbe did the same thing. In one smooth motion, Senne wrapped Robbe in his arms, engulfing him in a warm and strong hug. Robbe hugged him back, wrapping his arms tightly in response. A second later, Senne clasped Robbe’s shoulder before pulling back. “Everything is going to be okay, Robbe.”

“Is it?” Robbe asked, unsure. 

“It will,” Senne said, sounding so sure that Robbe had no choice but to believe him. “I promise.” 

* * *

**Woensdag 19:03**

* * *

Broerrrs + Luc

8 July, 19:03

Moyo: _Hey Robbe._

Robbe: _Hey_. 

Moyo: _Are you okay?_ _  
You seemed off today on your stream. _

Aaron: _I noticed that too._ _  
And you seemed off on Monday too. _

Robbe: _You guys watch my streams?_

Moyo: _Of course we do!_

Jens: _We might not talk in the chat, but we’re there._

Aaron: _Yeah, we’re your friends. We have to support you!_

Lucas: _Back on topic._ _  
Robbe, what’s wrong? _

Robbe: _Luc_.

Jens: _Robbe’s having boy troubles._

Robbe: _Jens…_

Moyo: _Like the personal kind?_ _  
Or the “getting laid” kind?   
Because those are two different things. _

Robbe: _I wouldn’t call it “getting laid”_ _  
More like “the guy I was sort of seeing   
abruptly gave me the cold shoulder and   
I don’t know what I did” _

Aaron: _Woah._ _  
That’s a lot. _

Robbe: _Yeah_.

Moyo: _Who are you seeing?_

Aaron: _You never mentioned his name._

Robbe: _Sander._

Aaron: _Sander?_ _  
As in Amber’s step-brother, Sander? _

Moyo: _Wait, what?_

Jens: _Wait, they’re step-siblings?_

Lucas: _No wonder he was so overprotective of her._ _  
And giving you such a hard time, Aaron. _

Aaron: _Haha, thaaaaaanks._

Robbe: _That’s the one._

Aaron: _Wow, I had no idea._

Jens: _Have you heard from him?_

Robbe: _Not directly._

Moyo: _What does that mean?_

Robbe: _I found a sketch of his on Monday._ _  
Or Zoë did. But I had never seen it before.   
When I got home, it might’ve fallen out of my bag. _

Jens: _He put it in your bag?_

Aaron: _How did he manage that?_

Robbe: _I wish I knew._ _  
I went to his apartment yesterday to talk to him about it.   
But he wasn’t home. _

Lucas: _And you still don’t have a response?_

Robbe: _None._ _  
And I know that Zoë said to give him time.   
But…  _

Aaron: _But?_

Robbe: _I don’t know if I can._ _  
If he doesn’t want to be with me, I want to know now.   
I don’t want to have to wait for it.   
You guys remember what I was like    
those last few months with Thomas. _

Moyo: _Yeah, I remember._ _  
You were always canceling plans and cutting streams short. _

Jens: _Yeah, you were a wreck, Robbe._

Robbe: _Thanks, Jens._

Jens: _You’re welcome_.

Robbe: _I don’t know if I can do that again._ _  
I hate it because I feel so much more for him than I did for Thomas.   
But I don’t want to put myself through that again. _

Aaron: _Have you tried telling him that?_

Moyo: _Aaron, he’s tried. Sander won’t answer._

Jens: _Yeah, it’s kind of hard for him to talk to Sander if he won’t answer._

Aaron: _No, I mean like physically talking to him._

Robbe: _Like in person?_

Aaron: _Yeah, in person._ _  
He can’t ignore you if you’re right there. _

Jens: _Like going to his work or something?_

Robbe: _I don’t know about that, Aaron._ _  
I don’t… I don’t want to be Thomas. _

Moyo: _But you want answers, right?_

Lucas: _If he doesn’t want to answer you, that’s also an answer, Robbe._

Jens: _Yeah, and you wouldn’t be Thomas._ _  
You told Thomas no so many times and he kept coming    
back because it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.   
Whatever Sander says, you’ll listen to him.   
Even if it’s something that you don’t want to hear.  _

Aaron: _You deserve to know, Robbe._

Robbe: _Yeah…_ _  
Thanks guys. _

Moyo: _Let us know what happens._

Jens: _Yes, please._ _  
Even though Luc and I will be in the Netherlands, you   
can still text us about it.  _

Lucas: _Please :)_

* * *

**Donderdag 19:52**

* * *

Zoë was right. 

As soon as Senne had arrived at his mama’s house, Robbe saw exactly what Zoë meant. His mother was charmed by Senne. The yellow daffodils, which were beginning to wilt, were still placed in a vase in the living room, where they could soak in the sunlight. As soon as Zoë and Senne arrived, she was pulling them into a tight hug and ushering them into the kitchen where food was waiting. 

Dinner went smoothly. His mama and Senne talked almost exclusively about Senne’s work. As soon as their conversation ended, his mama asked Zoë about her job during the summer and her final grades. But, as smoothly as the dinner was going, Robbe couldn’t help feeling that a piece was missing from the dinner—in the shape of a bleach-haired artist with tattoos on his arm. 

As soon as they were all finished, Robbe jumped to his feet and started collecting the dishes. Once he set the dishes into the sink and filled it with water, Robbe moved around the kitchen like he always did. He put away the leftovers and placed them in the fridge and began cleaning up. Robbe knew that his mama wanted to talk with Senne and Zoë, so he didn’t mind taking care of it.

As Robbe scrubbed down the stove top, two arms wrapped around his waist. Zoë. 

“Robbe,” she said, placing her chin against his shoulder. To the best of his ability, Robbe turned to her as she tilted her head to look at him. “Senne and I are going to get dessert. Do you want anything specific?” When Robbe shook his head, she nodded, grinning as she unraveled her arms around him. “We’ll be back soon! Take care of Mama!” 

And, just like that, the two love birds were headed out the front door, hand in hand as it closed behind them. 

Once they were gone, Robbe simply blinked at the closed front door in confusion. Then he heard his mama coughed lightly behind him. Robbe turned to find his mama sitting down at the kitchen table. There was a concerned look on her face as she reached out to push the chair out from beneath the table. 

“Robbe,” she said soothingly. But Robbe couldn’t shake the feeling like he was about to get in trouble. “Come sit down.” 

Swallowing nervously, Robbe moved to the table, taking a seat down across from her. “What is it, Mama?” he asked. 

“You tell me,” his mama said. There was a serious tone in her voice as she reached out to take his hand. She ran her hand soothingly along his hand. “You’ve been quiet all throughout dinner. For a minute, I thought it was because you didn’t like Senne. But now I know that isn’t the case. So, what’s going on, sweetheart?”

Robbe sighed. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” his mama asked. 

“About Sander,” Robbe said. His mama tilted her head to the side. It was a silent question for a little more information and Robbe continued. “While the boys and I were at the beach house, Sander was acting a little strange—or stranger than normal. When I got back, I went to go see him so we could meet up or go eat or something. But when I got there, he was really closed off toward me and kind of blew me off.” 

“Okay,” his mama said. 

“I don’t know what to do, Mama,” Robbe said, sighing. He let go of his mother’s hand and ran his hands over his face. “Senne told me that I didn’t do anything wrong. But I can’t help feeling like I have. Sander has completely shut me out, physically and virtually. He won’t answer my texts, but he managed to figure out a way to sneak a drawing into my backpack and I just… I don’t know what to do.” Robbe exhaled, his breath shaky. “Everyone’s been telling me to give him time but I just don’t know if I can.” 

His mama nodded, reaching out to rub his knee. “What do you want to do, sweetheart?” his mama asked. 

Robbe paused, blinking up at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean just that. What do you want, Robbe? Do you want Sander?” she asked. 

Robbe nodded before averting his gaze. “More than anything,” Robbe said, his voice shaky. “But I don’t know what else to do. I’ve called his phone, I’ve texted him—and nothing.” His mother stayed quiet, which was good, because Robbe couldn’t stop. “After Thomas, I didn’t think I would be able to feel like this for someone so quickly. But, I feel so much more for him than I did with Thomas… but if Sander doesn’t want a relationship with me, if he changed his mind, I don’t want to wait for him to decide to tell me. I want to know now.”

His mama stayed quiet. 

“Those last few months with Thomas were absolute hell. The entire time, I was just sitting there and waiting for Thomas to decide that he didn’t want to be with me anymore,” Robbe said. He could feel the tears pricking at his eyes again. “It was like I couldn’t do anything to change it or to stop it. But I couldn’t bring myself to confront him either. It’s not the same situation, but it feels like it. I don’t think I can do it again, Mama.”

“I know,” his mama said. “I felt the same thing in the last few months with your father.” Robbe glanced over at her and his mother cupped his cheek, using her thumb to wipe away the stray tear that had fallen down his cheek. “And if you don’t want to, you don’t have to deal with it. You can still go and demand answers from Sander. You need to find that clarity, Robbe. Whatever it takes. You deserve it.”

His mama reached out, wrapping her arms tightly around him and pulling him close. Robbe leaned into her embrace, holding her tightly, and buried his face into the crook of her neck. His mama pulled him a little tighter against her, rocking side-to-side before whispering, “It’s going to be alright, sweetheart.” 

Holding onto her tightly, Robbe nodded.

* * *

**Vrijdag 12:42**

* * *

By the time Robbe left the flatshare, his nerve had already vanished.

Robbe was never one for confrontation. So the thought of him going over to Emilie’s Tattoo Parlor to ask Sander for clarity didn’t seem like him. Robbe had always been the type to wait to avoid any confrontation—and he would wait forever. When they were in high school, no matter how upset he was, he only confronted his friends in angry bursts of rage spilled out without warning. With Thomas, Robbe would avoid things that made him angry and shifted to prevent confrontations. He avoided conflict with everyone, even his roommates.

But Robbe also knew that he needed to do this.

If he didn’t do this, Robbe would be left in the dark, waiting for Sander to decide if or when he would talk to him. While Robbe would normally avoid any confrontation, he couldn’t this time. Not after what happened with Thomas. When Robbe had felt Thomas pulling away, Robbe didn’t ask what he could do or confront him about his late hours at work. Instead, Robbe tried to become whatever he thought Thomas wanted him to be. Sometimes, Robbe wondered how much pain he could’ve saved himself if he had just confronted him and got them on even ground. 

Robbe didn’t want to be in that situation again. Clinging to his relationship with Thomas felt like grabbing hard at barbed wire. The pain hurt as Robbe gripped tighter until his hands bled. 

Most importantly, Robbe didn’t want his memories of Sander to be tainted by that suffering. It was the reason Robbe knew that he had to do this. That pain was insufferable and torture. But Robbe wanted to keep his mornings with Sander or that Wednesday afternoon from being warped by the pain. He didn’t have a lot of memories with Sander, but Robbe wanted to protect the few that he held.

Despite his resolve to get clarity, Robbe managed to turn the fifteen-minute bike ride to the parlor into over an hour. On his way there, Robbe had turned around three times and nearly crashed into a trash can on the third time. As he passed by a café, he stopped to get a coffee, and it was only once he sat down that he realized it was the café where he had run into Sander. Then, Robbe sat down in the corner and spent at least fifteen minutes staring at Sander’s Insta. 

But Robbe had finally arrived at the parlor.

As soon as he stared at the building that housed the parlor, the confidence he had managed to gather slipped through his fingers, splashing helplessly against the pavement. A week ago, he had stood in front of the parlor, nervous but excited at the prospect of seeing Sander, and left with a crushing swoop to his stomach. Now, Robbe felt a sense of foreboding on his shoulders and an urge to flee. Swallowing the knot in his throat, Robbe locked his bike before going through the front door. 

The only difference from Robbe’s visit a week ago was the paint on the windows. The red paint was switched for a purple hue that seemed to advertise their regular prices. Alicia sat at the front desk, wearing the same outfit, with her electric blue hair braided. Her gaze was focused on the computer in front of her. A woman who looked remarkably similar to Alicia leaned over her shoulder, pointing at something on the screen. 

Robbe walked to the desk, trying not to disturb them, but both women glanced up in a unison. While the older woman simply blinked at him, Alicia smiled at him. “Robbe! How are you?” 

Robbe shrugged, unable to form the words. 

“Robbe?” the woman asked. The older woman straightened, resting her hand against Alicia’s shoulder. She had shoulder-length, ash brown hair and gray eyes. Like Alicia, she was dressed in a black shirt and a pair of jeans. She was also wearing a name badge with  _ Emilie  _ engraved into the metal. Growing increasingly nervous under her critical gaze, Robbe nodded. Emilie kept a serious look on her face before she asked, “Are you here to see Sander?”

“Yes,” Robbe said, swallowing. He glanced around the packed lobby with people who were waiting to get their tattoos done. “If it’s alright with you. I know that I probably missed his lunch hour so I can always come back closer to the end of his shift.” 

“No,” Emilie said, reaching over Alicia’s shoulder. A second later, Emilie held up the phone against her ear and pressed three buttons on the machine. She hummed before speaking, “Yeah, Sander. Are you between customers right now?” There was a pause. “Yeah, everything’s okay. I just need to speak to you for a few seconds. Yeah, okay, see you soon.”

As soon as Emilie hung up the phone, Alicia said, sounding almost impressed, “Mama?”

Ignoring her, Emilie turned to Robbe and gestured toward the hallway. “Go on back. Sander’s got about five minutes until his next appointment.”

Robbe hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Emilie said. Her response was immediate and without hesitation. “Do you need me to point out which door?”

Robbe shook his head, nerves building in his stomach. “Third door on the right?”

When Emilie nodded, Robbe stepped away from the desk. Before Robbe disappeared into the hallway, he snuck a glance back to the front desk. Emilie offered him a reassuring smile and Alicia waved at him. Like last week, Robbe walked past open doors and snuck quick glances into the small rooms as he passed. Despite his attempt at a distraction, Robbe could feel his nerves bubbling in his stomach. 

With each step closer to Sander’s door, his nerves increased tenfold, growing until he was practically nauseous. Even though every part of Robbe wanted to run, he kept moving toward Sander’s door, wide open and shining light into the hallway. Swallowing the knot in his throat, Robbe stepped inside the room.

At first, Sander didn’t notice him in the doorway. 

Perched on the edge of his desk chair, Sander had his long legs sprawled out in front of him. His platinum hair looked like a mess and his t-shirt was obviously rumpled beneath his gray jacket. Sander wore a pair of deep blue skinny jeans that curved to his legs and the ends were stuffed into his Doc Martens. There was a spoon hanging from the edge of his lips. His green eyes were focused on the binder in his lap, but Robbe could see the bags beneath his eyes like he hadn’t slept in days. 

When Robbe closed the door to the hallway, Sander glanced up. His green eyes grew wide, but Robbe could still pinpoint the tired in them, mixed with panic and maybe even relief. Sander swallowed, putting the book on his desk and standing up. “Robbe,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you,” Robbe said. “And you weren’t answering your phone.”

“Well, I’m waiting for Emilie—”

“Yeah, she’s with Alicia at the front desk,” Robbe said. Sander sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I’m pretty sure she said that because she knew that if she told you I was here, you would’ve turned me away.” 

Robbe was right and they both knew it. Instead of dissuading him, Sander crossed his arms over his chest and didn’t meet Robbe’s eyes. Robbe sighed, biting down on his lip. “Look, I don’t know what happened between us or what I did to make you stop talking to me, but I…” Robbe trailed off, feeling the words catch in his throat. 

Sander glanced away from him. 

Robbe swallowed the knot in his throat. His friends were right. His mother was right. He needed to get answers. To get answers, to have clarity, Robbe needed to do this. “I feel a lot for you, Sander,” Robbe said, releasing a shaky breath. As soon as it was in the air, Robbe felt his shoulders release a little bit, lifting him higher. “I feel so much for you. I feel so much more than I expected to so close to breaking up with Thomas.

At the mention of Thomas, Sander shifted his weight, but he still didn’t look up.

Biting down hard on his lip, Robbe glanced down at the floor. The words were trying to stay in his mouth, to protect himself, but Robbe needed it. The words needed to be said or else Robbe would be left in the dust confused, clinging onto something that had already left him behind… again. 

Raising his head to look at Sander’s huddled form, Robbe said, “But if you don’t feel the same way that I do, or if you don’t want me, you need to tell me.” Sander’s eyes snapped back to him in an instant, green eyes drilling into brown. “If you want to, I’m not going to fight you, Sander. I’ve already clung too long to someone who had already left me… I’m not doing that again.”

Robbe spotted the confusion in Sander’s eyes, swimming in the emerald waves. There was a brief second where Sander looked like he was going to speak. His mouth dropped open and his arms unwound from around his body. Before he could manage, Robbe was speaking, unable to stop himself. “I meant what I said. I want you, Sander,” Robbe said. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but somehow it boomed in the small room. 

Across from him, Sander swallowed heavily and rubbed his palms against the fabric of his jeans. 

“The way I feel about you, Sander…” Robbe trailed off. In his chest, his bottle of emotions stirred rampant, threatening to overcome, but Robbe held them back. He knew it was dangerous, but he would let them out later. Right now, he needed to do this. He needed to let Sander know how he felt. “I haven’t felt like this about anyone else before… Not even Thomas.” 

Standing across from him, Sander simply stared. The look of shock and surprise was so overwhelming, Robbe nearly wanted to step back. It was like Sander couldn’t believe Robbe would say something like that. His eyes wandered all over Robbe at a frightening pace, from his head to his feet to his hands and everywhere in between. It was like Sander was trying to take in all of him at once—like his eyes couldn’t stay put in one place for long. 

Swallowing, Robbe continued. “And I know that you feel the same way about me.” 

An intense look flashed across Sander’s face. It was something that Robbe couldn’t decipher—something on the edge of understanding and sorrow and disbelief—and it sent a flash of urgency through Robbe’s chest. It made him want to cross the room, wrap his arms around Sander and hold onto him as tight as he could and never let go. But Robbe didn’t move and neither did Sander. Standing there across from him, Sander simply looked at him, that intense and smoldering look. 

A flash of vulnerability shot through Robbe. It made him want to flee the room, leave the parlor in fright, and forget this ever happened. But Robbe resisted the urge and stayed. Swallowing his uncertainty, that maybe he did read it all wrong, Robbe said, “You don’t have to give me an answer right now but… if I don’t hear from you by tomorrow, I’ll have mine.” 

Sander was quiet, his eyes growing wider, as he stared at Robbe.

“I have to go,” Robbe said quickly. He felt small and vulnerable beneath Sander’s intense gaze and the impending silence around him. The pressure was almost suffocating and Robbe wondered if Sander felt the same way. Reaching behind him, Robbe felt the cool of the door knob against his hand and wrenched the door open. “I have to stream soon.”

If Sander tried to stop him, Robbe didn’t see him. If Sander was stunned into silence or simply didn’t want to follow or stop him, Robbe wasn’t for certain. But he didn’t dwell on it as he fled down the hallway and out of the parlor, making sure to thank Emilie and Alicia on his way out. 

* * *

**Vrijdag 21:21**

* * *

As Robbe checked his phone for the third time in the past minute, his bedroom door swung open. The wooden door bounced off his skateboard, knocking it over as Milan stepped inside. He was wearing a nice black and gold button-up shirt that Robbe had picked out with a pair of skinny jeans. His favorite gold earring dangled on his right ear and he had numerous rings adorning his fingers. Over his shoulder, Robbe could see Jonathan similarly dressed up and waiting a little impatiently. 

“Are you sure that you’re okay alone?” Milan asked, concerned. 

A week ago, Robbe would’ve been shoving Milan out the door while texting Sander to come over. With four roommates, it was hard to have alone time, and today would’ve been the metaphorical jackpot. Zoë was out on a date with Senne and Lucas was at his mother’s house in the Netherlands with Jens. The flatshare was all his and he would be spending it all alone without any company—without Sander to come and make it worth it. 

“No,” Robbe said, sighing heavily. “But, I’ll be okay until you get home.” 

“Are you sure?” Milan asked, raising an eyebrow. “If you absolutely need me, I can stay.”

Over his shoulder, Jonathan sent him a pointed look that meant that Milan was absolutely  _ not  _ staying under any circumstances.

“Milan,” Robbe said, smiling at him. “I will be fine on my own for a few hours.” Robbe reached for his phone, turning it over in his hand absent-mindedly. There was a notification from the group chat—Jens saying they had arrived safely—but there was nothing else. No text from Sander. No Instagram message from  _ earthlingoddity _ . Nothing. “I might step out and buy some vodka or something. But I promise that I will come straight back.”

“Okay,” Milan said, not sounding convinced. “Just promise that you’ll delete your Twitter app before you get too wasted. Last time you drunk-tweeted, I got way too many mentions because people were worried about you.” Robbe rolled his eyes, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. How could he forget? It was so close to when Thomas broke up with him and Wasted Robbe had zero filter. “You told me to remind you.”

Robbe snorted. “Thank you, Milan.” He nodded his head, stepping forward to press a kiss against Robbe’s head before stepping out of the room. Milan left the door half-open to the hallway and Robbe watched as Jonathan handed Milan his keys. “Have a good party. Don’t get so wasted that you come into the wrong bedroom again.” While Jonathan laughed, Milan simply flipped him off. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See you, baby bird,” Milan said, stepping out of the door. “I’ll party for you and have faith.”

As Jonathan stepped out the door, he doubled back to add, “I’m making breakfast in the morning.”

“Thanks, Jonathan!” 

And, just like that, they were gone with a twist of the lock. 

Almost immediately, the flatshare was thrust into a state of quiet. As the muffled chattering disappeared with each step away, the silence festered in its place. On any other occasion, the flatshare was always loud and busy with all of their movement. It would be his roommates being loud in the kitchen or Milan doing an off-key Eurovision performance or Lucas sketching and watching Netflix or Zoë working on a presentation across the hall. 

Now, there was nothing. 

Other than his own breathing, the whirl of his desk was the only thing breaking through the numbing silence around him. There was nothing else. There was no laughter from the neighboring rooms or the sound of squealing tires on the street below. Like the flatshare, the street was quiet, too. It was like the only things that existed were Robbe and his own hammering thoughts. 

As if on cue, his phone vibrated against his desk, loudly and cutting through the silence in an instant, but it was just a Twitter notification. 

It wasn’t Sander. 

Robbe sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. He needed to face the facts. There was a chance Sander wouldn’t text him or show up or give him an answer. There was a chance that whatever Robbe felt was only one-sided—that Sander didn’t feel the same way. Acknowledging the mere possibility was enough to tear a hole in his heart and squeeze it so violently, he was gasping for air. 

Being with Sander had been so soothing and relaxing. It made Robbe feel like he didn’t have to be anything but who he was—Sander would like him anyway. If Sander didn’t feel the way that Robbe did, his heart might break a little more. Sander deserved to feel like that. He deserved to feel relaxed and accepted, being himself, with whomever he was with. 

Suddenly, the front door slammed open, hitting the wall and jarring Robbe from his thoughts. As Robbe tried to jump to his feet and straighten up, he nearly toppled out of his desk chair and onto the floor. He gripped the armrests tightly, trying to straighten his balance before he tried to figure out what was going on. Milan had stepped into the foyer, blocking his view as he spoke to someone outside the apartment—presumably Jonathan—before shutting the door. 

Once the door was closed, however, Milan spun around abruptly. He faced Robbe with wide, knowing eyes and practically sprinted to Robbe’s door. He managed to open up Robbe’s bedroom door fully and collided with the door frame with one motion. 

“Milan,” Robbe said. “What the fuck are you—” 

Milan shushed him, grinning widely at him. Then, his face formed into his—and Lucas’s—signature Chesire cat grin before he said, “Jonathan and I just found a certain hot bleach-blond outside the apartment building who is desperate to talk to you.” 

What? It couldn’t… Robbe sat up a little straighter in his seat and his mouth went impossibly dry. As Robbe struggled to get his bearings, Milan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. After several failed attempts, Robbe finally managed to get out, trying not to sound too hopeful, “Really?”

Milan nodded enthusiastically. “Yes,” he said. As he dropped his voice down a little lower, Milan sent a quick glance over to the closed front door. “I recognized him from that photo that you showed us on Sunday and, you know, I might’ve stalked his Instagram a little.” Robbe sent him a look and Milan rolled his eyes dramatically. “Come on, Robbe. You know better than to show me a photo from his Insta!” 

Robbe shook his head. “Of course you did.”

“Whatever, that’s beside the point because he’s standing outside waiting to talk to you. Also, Jonathan stalked him with me,” Milan said, matter-of-factly. The silence grew between them, but this one was different. It was no longer dreary and lonely. It was exciting and nerve-racking and  _ hopeful _ . Hopeful that Sander was there to say he wanted Robbe, too. Hopeful that they weren’t ending—they were just beginning. “Did you want me to send him in?” Milan asked. “Or, did you want me to send him away?”

Shaking his head, Robbe turned to Milan. “Let him in, please,” Robbe said. Milan nodded before heading back to the front door. As Robbe hurried to save his editing project and shut down his computer, he could hear Milan’s footsteps creak down the hall, joined by someone else’s. Robbe’s heart thumped in his chest, unable to look up right now, or else his computer wouldn’t be shut down properly. 

“Robbe, I’m leaving!” Milan called. 

“Okay,” Robbe said. The computer screen turned black in front of him. “You better hurry. You’re already fifteen minutes late and Vincent is probably already going nuts.” 

“Yes, yes, I’m aware,” Milan said. Robbe chuckled, standing up from his desk chair. Milan sounded like he was rolling his eyes. “You’re hanging out with Jonathan too much, Robbe. Hopefully, Vincent will go easy on me this time around given the circumstances. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Just like that, the front door closed and the lock clicked in place—for the second time. 

Nervously, Robbe glanced out his open bedroom door. There was a part of him expecting to find an empty hallway, as though Milan was simply messing with him—that Sander really wasn’t here. But his heart fluttered in relief at the sight of Sander, standing in the foyer. He was stripping off his gray jacket and hanging it on the hook. 

Robbe stepped out into the hallway, his legs shaky beneath him. “Hey.” 

Sander glanced at him. A small smile worked its way on his face. “Hey.” Before Sander turned to him completely, he dropped his duffel bag on the floor beneath his jacket. Once he was relieved of both items, he turned to Robbe fully. “I’m sorry,” Sander said. For a second, Robbe’s heart dropped, expecting a rejection, but Sander continued. “I would’ve been here sooner, but I didn’t get off until twenty minutes ago. I had to lock up.” 

Robbe nodded, standing up a little straighter. He swallowed nervously before asking, “So, what are you doing here?” 

“I have an answer for you,” Sander said. Without breaking his eye contact with Robbe, Sander took a step to him. On instinct, Robbe’s heart did an embarrassing flutter in his ribcage as Sander got closer. Stopping within arm’s reach, Sander’s eyes flickered across Robbe’s face before settling on his eyes. “And I wanted to answer it in person.”

As Robbe tried (and failed) to keep his eyes on Sander’s, he swallowed. “Okay,” Robbe said, struggling to keep his voice even. His thoughts crashed against the inside of his skull like the  tumultuous waves of the mural and the bottle of emotions in his chest shattered instantly. Hope and desire and fear filled his chest in one giant explosion that could’ve taken down a city block. Robbe was overwhelmed by the emotions that he was feeling—that Sander was here, that it might not be over yet. 

In front of him, Sander remained so calm and sure. His face was relaxed and his eyes never swayed from Robbe’s face. They scanned over him like Sander was trying to memorize every pore, mole, and freckle. It was like he was trying to commit this moment to memory for the rest of their lives. The thought made Robbe’s throat go impossibly dry. 

“And what is your answer?”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Sander dropped his eyes down to Robbe’s lips before he was taking a step forward. Without having to think about it, Robbe tilted his chin up to meet him and their lips slotted together effortlessly. 

All at once, Robbe felt like he could breathe again. Robbe had been submerged for far too long—in his doubts, in his worry, in his confusion. But in this moment, it felt like none of that had ever existed. Sander’s kiss felt like he had broken the surface of the water and breathed in a gulp of air. Robbe wanted nothing more than to pull Sander closer to him, to get drunk on that feeling all over again. 

But Robbe also needed to hear him say it. 

Fisting the front of his black t-shirt, Robbe pushed Sander back—not a lot, just enough to disconnect their lips. Robbe leaned against Sander, who reached out to steady him. Robbe let out a sigh—one of relief, of happiness—before he said, practically begging, “Say it.” 

“Robbe,” Sander said, exhaling. “Open your eyes.” Robbe obeyed, his eyes connecting immediately with Sander’s emerald ones. Robbe backed up a little, keeping his hand clenched firmly on Sander’s shirt. As soon as Robbe’s eyes were open, Sander wasted no time before saying—no, declaring, “Robbe IJzermans, since the moment that I first saw you, I have wanted you. That hasn’t hasn’t changed since, but I know it’s never going to change.” He paused before whispering, “I’ve never felt like this with anyone else before.” 

There were rising waves forming in his skull, new questions that needed to be asked, but Robbe knew that he could ask him later—that they had all the time in the world. 

Letting out a relieved breath, Robbe surged forward, their lips pressing back together. 

The feeling of breaking the surface returned in full force. Robbe breathed Sander in with all that he had, holding on tight and never letting go. Robbe stumbled against the wall, his back pressed against it, and Sander was dragged with him, their lips never disconnecting. Sander’s hands trailed across Robbe’s body, mapping it without reservations, and his lips were relentless against his own. Robbe untangled his hand from Sander’s shirt before reaching up to dig into the strands of his hair. 

Robbe didn’t know how long they stood there in the hallway kissing. It could’ve been five minutes. It could’ve been hours. But Robbe didn’t care about the time, he didn’t care if Milan and Jonathan stumbled upon them, as he pulled Sander closer and kissed him a little harder. 

After a small squeeze on his hips, Sander lifted him off the ground as though he weighed nothing at all. Robbe ignored the instant jolt in his bones and wrapped his legs instantly around Sander’s waist, never separating their lips. One of Sander’s arms wrapped below him, bracing against him, and his other hand ran through his hair, gripping tightly on the strands. When Sander pushed them off the wall, Robbe steered him in the direction of his bedroom and Sander kept him from falling.

Once the bedroom door was closed—and locked for good measure—their kisses turned heated and desperate as Sander lowered Robbe to the floor. Robbe dragged his tongue across Sander’s bottom lip, clinging tighter to the collar of Sander’s shirt. His mouth opened with pause and Robbe licked into his mouth, pulling Sander closer over him. Sander’s hands fisted the fabric on Robbe’s hips, starting to tug up on it, but he stopped and let go. 

“It’s okay,” Robbe said, whispering against Sander’s lips. 

Sander kissed him lightly. “Robbe, we don’t have to if you—”

“I want to,” Robbe said, cutting him off. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Sander said, sounding visibly pained. He kissed Robbe heatedly but fleetingly. “Yes.” 

Nodding, Robbe grabbed the fabric of Sander’s shirt and tugged it off his torso. Instinctively, Sander raised his arms above him, allowing Robbe to slip the shirt off easier. As Robbe pulled up the shirt, his eyes followed the line of his chest, the dark ink on his ribcage, and up to the sculpted lines of his collarbone. Once his shoulders were free, Sander attempted to duck out of the shirt, but it caught on his chin. 

“Fucking hell,” Sander hissed as a laugh burst out of Robbe. Sander grabbed hold of the shirt and nearly ripped it off his head. Once it was off his body, Robbe stepped forward, placing open-mouth kisses along the exposed flesh of his collarbone. Sander let out a broken moan, tossing the shirt somewhere behind him. “I hate that stupid shirt.” 

Sander fisted the strands of Robbe’s hair, pulling him up so their lips molded back together. Robbe pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around him. His skin was warm beneath his fingertips, searing through the fabric of Robbe’s t-shirt. Sander’s hands mapped out his back in large strokes before gripping at the hem of his shirt. Robbe’s shirt slipped off easily and was discarded onto the floor soon after. 

Wrapping his arms around Sander, Robbe guided him back toward the bed. Once his knees hit the edge of the bed, Robbe laid down on the sheets, holding onto Sander and refusing to break their kiss. Sander followed his movements, one hand gripping onto Robbe’s hip and the other tangled in the strands of his hair. It wasn’t long before Robbe was flat against the bed with Sander looming over him, holding himself up with one hand. 

Sander pulled back and Robbe blinked up at him. There was a bright, brilliant smile on his face as he stared down at Robbe. It was the smile that he had given Robbe in front of the mural, the one that made him look like his face would split in two, the smile that Robbe hoped would only be reserved for him. 

Reaching up to hold his face, Robbe pulled Sander back against him. This kiss was gentler, their neediness less amplified. Robbe wrapped his arms around Sander’s shoulders, pulling him even closer. Sander let out a sigh, letting himself sink fully on Robbe as he gripped his hair a little tighter. 

Robbe reached between them and Sander lifted his hips to accommodate his hands. Robbe undid Sander’s belt swiftly before moving onto the buttons. Once they were both undone, Robbe pushed the fabric off his hips—

“Fuck,” Sander whispered against his lips. 

Robbe paused, fearing that he might’ve gone too far. “What is it?”

Sander let out an embarrassed sigh, pressing a lingering kiss against his lips. For a second, the doubts crawled back in Robbe’s mind—that he was going to leave, that he was never going to come back—but then Sander’s voice pulled Robbe out of his thoughts as he whispered, “I forgot that I decided to wear my Docs this morning. Hold on.”

Robbe was confused about what he meant. Then, Sander lifted himself off Robbe and moved to hastily untie his boots. It startled a laugh out of Robbe and Sander shoved his side playfully. Smiling over at him, Robbe rested against the bed, waiting for Sander to finish. Once the laces were undone, Sander tossed his shoes off gracefully before standing up to push off his undone jeans. 

Before the garment even hit the floor, Sander was back over Robbe, kissing him fervently. Robbe pulled him closer, trying to match the intensity that Sander was giving him in earnest. As Sander kissed a line down his jaw to his throat, Robbe sighed, breathing out, “I missed you, Sander.”

To his relief, Sander whispered against his neck, “I missed you too, Robbe.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be no clips of Jij Verliest on my Tumblr for Saturday/Sunday because I'm going out of town. 
> 
> I feel like I don't say this enough but **thank you** to everyone that has reblogged, sent me an ask, or left me a comment on here about this fic. Twitch Streamer!Robbe and this story has meant the absolute world to me and I'm so glad that so many people are enjoying it! I hope to respond to the comments from last chapter when I get back. It's been a busy week for me. 
> 
> Thank you all so much (again) for supporting me on this story! <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting this. It's been a rough week and I'm still catching up. I hope you all enjoy this wonderful chapter that I had such a fun time writing! <3

* * *

**Zaterdag 4:27**

* * *

Robbe was hot. 

The realization pulled him from his dreams, bringing him into reality in his bedroom, with only one thing running through his half-asleep brain: hot. Below the surface of his skin, he could feel the wildfire bubbling and increasing with intensity. Robbe reached out, feeling the pressure of one hand against his other arm. Even still waking up, fighting off the initial wave of grogginess, he could feel the flush of his skin, the sweat forming on it. 

In addition to the burning of his skin, there was a heavy pressure against Robbe’s back. It was solid,heavy and overbearingly warm. There was a similar, but lighter, pressure along his waist. The two added to the intensity of his body heat, increasing it so much that he couldn’t fall back asleep. While Robbe’s sleep-induced mind was certain of “why,” his heart swelled tenfold with ease and certainty. 

Seeking the sweet reprieve of cooler air, Robbe shifted away from the warm pressure. Cold air swept over his shoulders and back, giving him the relief that he needed. But, behind him, he heard a small whine and the bed shifted beneath him. As quickly as it had vanished, the warmth returned, pressing against his back and waist, and Robbe realized with a start that he was being pulled back across the bed. 

For the first time since waking up, Robbe opened his eyes.

As Robbe tried to get his bearings, he glanced around the bedroom in confusion. There were only two sources of light in the room. The lamp on his desk, which he had forgotten to turn off and the bright red numbers on the alarm clock— _ 4:27 _ . It was still a little too early for the sun to rise and Robbe could still see the stars beginning to dim. 

But, even with the minimal lighting, he could make out the clothes scattered across the floor. Robbe’s deep green shirt was on the floor, cast aside, and there was a black one near the window, balled up. There was a pair of deep blue skinny jeans on the floor, partially covering one Doc Marten. He found the other shoe cast aside near the edge of the bed, with Robbe’s jeans pooling beside them.

Just like that, Robbe’s sleepy mind snapped to attention and all hints of drowsiness were wiped from his brain. Once the sleep had disappeared, his mind started to remember everything from last night in slow motion. Sander showing up at the apartment and kissing him as though his life depended on it. Robbe pulling off Sander’s shirt, Sander doing the same, falling on the bed—and it all led to them collapsing on the sheets and Sander falling asleep before Robbe did. 

Sander.

Needing to see Sander with his own eyes, Robbe slowly twisted onto his back. Unlike Robbe, Sander was still sleeping. His cheek was squished against the pillow and his bleach-blond hair was sticking in all directions, only partially because of Robbe’s hands. The sheets were bunched up around his waist, and his right arm, covered with all of his tattoos, was draped over his waist.

Turning toward him fully, Robbe stared. 

In the few times that they had fallen asleep in the same bed, Robbe had always been the first one to fall asleep and the second one to wake up. So he had never been allowed to see Sander like this, relaxed and peaceful. Sleeping, Sander was stripped of what he showed the world and left with only him. He looked vulnerable and exposed, but still so beautiful and  _ Sander. _ Robbe’s eyes found the tattoo on his shoulder—a large wolf that covered his upper arm and his shoulder, protective and menacing—and the words of ink on his ribcage that were partially covered by his arm.

Robbe lost track of how long he stared at him, his finger tracing along the outline of the wolf’s face. He saw the way Sander’s nose scrunched in his sleep and how he pressed his cheek further against the pillow. He saw how Sander’s mouth fell open a little before closing and how he clung unconsciously to Robbe’s waist in his sleep. Unaware of Robbe’s eyes lingering on him, Sander continued to sleep soundly and Robbe continued to watch him. 

Then, all at once, Robbe’s body reminded him  _ why  _ he was awake in the first place. A hot flash shot through his body, making the comforting warmth of Sander’s skin against his own nearly unbearable. Robbe wanted to get out of bed, check the thermostat in the hall, and get a glass of ice-cold water. He needed something, anything, to cool down just a little, to get him relaxed enough to go back to sleep. 

At the same time, he didn’t want to leave Sander’s side. If he left, Robbe was worried that he would return to an empty bed and find that Sander was simply a product of his imagination—a comfort he had conjured to deal with the fact Sander never texted him. It was illogical, but Robbe knew how powerful the brain could be on occasions and how strong his anxiety could be. 

The mere thought of ice-cold water to cool his burning skin was too tempting to pass up. 

Shifting slowly, Robbe edged himself out from Sander’s arm. First, he slipped one leg out from under the cover before swinging the second one out. Sander’s arm slipped from Robbe’s waist, falling lightly onto the cushions beneath it. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Robbe grabbed his briefs and slipped them on. Just in case Jonathan or Milan were still up, he grabbed a t-shirt for good measure. 

As Robbe smoothed the fabric over his waist, he felt a featherlight touch on his wrist. The touch was so soft that he almost thought he imagined it until there was a gentle squeeze on his skin. Glancing down, he spotted a hand—Sander’s hand—holding lightly to his wrist and he pivoted to find Sander looking up at him. 

Though he was awake, Robbe could still see the drowsiness in Sander’s eyes as he blinked sleepily up at Robbe. Despite sleeping for so long, there were large bags under his eyes. Sitting up on one arm, Sander looked on the verge of falling back asleep, the exhaustion present on his face. Before Robbe could ask him if he wanted anything from the kitchen, Sander swallowed before whispering, “Are you going to leave me?”

The softness in his voice—and the insecurity laced in his question—caught Robbe off guard. Since the moment they had met at the bar, Sander had been nothing but confident. He sat down beside a stranger to comfort him. He boldly stared at Robbe from across the bar because he could and asked him out on a date because he could. He told Robbe that he was beautiful on their first outing and took it a step forward and kissed Robbe later that week. Everything Sander had ever done was confident. It had never crossed his mind that Sander could be as insecure as Robbe was. 

Shaking his head, Robbe bent down. “Never,” he whispered. Sander let out a hum, his eyelids seemingly heavy. “I got hot so I was going to get some water from the kitchen. Did you want some?” 

Sander was silent for a moment before shaking his head. Before he climbed off the bed, Robbe bent down to press a kiss to his eyelids. Sander let out another small hum before tilting his head up and their lips connected. This kiss was chaste, so different from their heated kisses hours ago, but Robbe always loved these kinds of kisses just as much. 

“I’ll be back in a second,” Robbe whispered. 

“Hurry back,” Sander whispered, silently pleading.

When Robbe returned, a glass of ice-water in his hands, Sander had laid back down in the bed. He was dressed in his black t-shirt (and likely his briefs), but he’d returned to the same position as before. Once Robbe climbed into the bed, Sander snuggled into his side, laying his head on his chest, and wrapped his arms around Robbe’s waist. Within moments, Sander fell asleep again as Robbe dragged his fingers through his messy hair. 

Letting out a sigh and holding Sander tighter, Robbe succumbed to the blissful comfort of sleep with Sander wrapped his arms. 

* * *

**Zaterdag 10:23**

* * *

When Robbe woke up again, the sun had risen over the buildings across the street. The sunlight stretched across the bedroom, lighting a direct path to the bed. The warm light swam over their remaining discarded clothes across the floor. It also reached the lower half of the bed, warming the sheets twisted around their intertwined legs. 

Sometime in the night, he and Sander had shifted again. 

Sander was flat on his back with his right arm covering his eyes. His left arm was trapped between the bed and Robbe’s stomach. Robbe was tucked into his neck with one arm draped across Sander’s chest, holding him tightly. There was a fistful of Sander’s black t-shirt in his hand. Sander’s nose was pressed flush against his temple and his sleepy breaths caressed Robbe’s cheekbone. 

As Robbe sat up, gathering his bearings, he could hear the sound of clattering in the kitchen—Jonathan’s voice and Milan’s high-pitched squeals, which meant he was being tickled—and the smell of eggs and sausage in the air.  _ Oh right, _ Robbe thought. Jonathan was supposed to be cooking breakfast. At the mere mention of Jonathan’s delectable cooking, Robbe’s mouth began to water and his stomach let out a growl. The thought of Jonathan’s cooking, especially his omelets, was enough to increase the intensity in which he drooled.

When was the last time that Robbe had eaten? Glancing over at Sander, who was still asleep, Robbe had to wonder when Sander last ate. Was it his “lunch” break, which was probably dinner? Did he get some food on his way here? Or did he come straight to the flatshare? 

Biting down on his lip, Robbe made his decision. 

Carefully, he lifted himself off of Sander’s chest. As Robbe rose from the bed, Sander moved beneath him, stretching his limbs. Robbe paused where he was, waiting for the arm against his face to move, to see Sander’s green eyes blinking up at him, but it never happened. Sander turned over so his back faced the approaching sun and wrapped his other arm around himself, letting out a muffled whine. Unable to resist, Robbe placed a kiss against Sander’s clothed shoulder before climbing out of bed. 

Once Robbe stepped into the hallway, closing his bedroom door softly so he wouldn’t disturb the sleeping Sander, Milan’s voice got louder. He was giggling and Robbe could hear Jonathan’s deep bass laugh mixed in. As he stepped closer into the kitchen, he found Jonathan trying to feed Milan a spoonful of something and Milan struggling to get away from him. 

“No, no, Jonathan, I’ll eat anything that you cook and think it’s amazing. I’m hardly the person to tell you whether you need more spices,” Milan said, trying to back away. Despite this, he was grinning from ear-to-ear and was leaning back on the back two feet of his chair, nearly toppling onto the kitchen floor.

“Yes, I would ask Zoë about her tastebuds because she’s got the best ones of all of you,” Jonathan said, matter-of-factly. Robbe grinned as he watched the two of them bicker. Despite being the shorter of the two, Jonathan managed to tower menacingly over the sitting Milan, who looked on the edge of tipping over. “But she’s out of the apartment and I need a second opinion.”

“What’s going on here?” Robbe asked.

The two men in the kitchen turned to him. Now that Jonathan wasn’t on the offensive, Milan settled back into his chair, no longer teetering on the edge of falling. As Jonathan turned toward him, Milan called, “Robbe, run for your life or you’re next!”

Jonathan rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s antics. “Please, Robbe’s tastebuds might be better than yours. But even if it was the single worst thing he ever tasted, Robbe would tell me that it was amazing.” Milan made a face—one that meant he agreed—and Robbe couldn’t refute his statement because it was true. Jonathan returned to the food on the stove and turned to Robbe. “How was your night?” 

Under Jonathan and Milan’s knowing gaze, Robbe felt his cheeks flush in intensity. “Umm… it was good,” he said, swallowing. “How was the party? Did Vincent murder you for being extremely late?”

Milan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “No, he was incredibly understanding,” Milan said, patting the empty chair next to him. “You’re not getting out of this one, baby bird. I can see all the hickeys forming on your neck from here. Come on, sit down, and tell Milan all about it. And don’t skimp on any of the details because you look like you had a fun night.” Robbe rolled his eyes, leaning against the door frame. “At least tell me why he got cold all of a sudden.”

Robbe swallowed. “We haven’t talked about it yet,” he said. 

“Robbe—”

“I know, Milan,” Robbe said before Milan could say another word. “And I’m going to ask him about it. I just… when I saw he was here and that he was choosing to be with me. I got overwhelmed and we started kissing. Before I could think of asking, we were…” Robbe cut himself off with a cough, feeling his cheeks heat up. “After… he just looked so exhausted and he fell asleep—and he still is.”

“Well,” Milan said, straightening up. “Wake him up and we’ll get answers.”

“No,” Robbe said, shaking his head. Still at the stove, Jonathan started piling food onto one of their plates and Milan raised an eyebrow toward Robbe. “No, no, I’m not letting you interrogate him before I get a chance to ask him. If you want to play my overprotective dad or overprotective rich uncle—whichever you decide—you can do so at dinner.”

“Is he joining us for dinner?” Jonathan asked. 

“I hope so,” Robbe admitted. Jonathan turned toward him, handing him the plate. There were at least two helpings of everything on the plate and Robbe stared at the plate with wide eyes. Jonathan moved across the kitchen in search of a fork. “After being apart from him all week, I want him to. But I don’t know about his work and everything. He could have a shift at the parlor or something.” 

“Let me know,” Jonathan said, handing him two forks. “Go on—and make sure he tries the potatoes.”

Before Robbe stepped out of the kitchen, Milan called his name. Robbe paused halfway out the door, clutching onto the plate for dear life. “Don’t think you’re getting away from this conversation,” Milan said sternly. For a second, he thought that Milan was talking about the conversation with Sander—about why he pulled away so suddenly—but then his self-appointed guru wiggled his eyebrows and Robbe knew that he was talking about the sex. 

“Goodbye Milan.”

“I’m just trying to keep you safe!” 

* * *

**Zaterdag 10:29**

* * *

With the forks clenched between his teeth and clutching at the full plate with his hands, Robbe stepped down the hallway, closer to his destination—to his bedroom and the sleeping Sander waiting on his bed. Reaching out with his free hand, Robbe opened his bedroom door slowly and stepped into the room. He half-expected Sander to still be asleep on the bed, but, as he closed the door behind him, Robbe spotted him awake. 

Sander was sitting up on the edge of the bed with slumped shoulders as he stared out the window. His long legs were splayed out in front of him. He was gripping onto his jeans tightly, his knuckles turning white. Sitting like that, he looked something like a statue, carved and perched on the edge of Robbe’s bed, and Robbe couldn’t help staring. Sander reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone, and Robbe returned to the present with a start. 

Once Robbe locked the door, knowing Milan’s tendency to barge into rooms unannounced, Sander glanced at the door. As soon as Sander’s eyes landed on Robbe, the change was instantaneous. He sat up a little straighter and Robbe saw his body visibly relax. His face lit up in a bright smile and his eyes barely glassed over. “Hey,” Sander said, so quiet that Robbe nearly missed it. 

Taking the forks from his mouth, Robbe echoed, “Hello.” Robbe crossed over to him, and pressed a quick kiss against his lips before announcing, “I come with food.”

Glancing down at the overfilled plate, Sander eyed him skeptically. “Did you make breakfast?”

“No,” Robbe said bluntly, handing Sander the forks. “You don’t have to worry about it being accidentally poisoned.” Taking the silverware from him, Sander snorted. Loudly. Robbe sank on the bed beside him and balanced the plate on his knee. “Jonathan, Milan’s boyfriend, is a master chef. If he’s here, he’s cooking, and that’s mostly because he takes over the kitchen. His scrambled eggs are to die for and he said to try the potatoes.” 

Ah,” Sander said. “I’ll have to thank him then.” 

“Yes, you should.” 

In one long heartbeat, Sander leaned forward. Robbe tilted his head up to meet his lips in a kiss and Sander stopped a hairline before their lips met fully. At Robbe’s whine, Sander’s lips twisted into a knowing smirk and Robbe couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his lips. “Thank you for getting food,” Sander said, his lips brushing against Robbe’s. 

“You’re welcome,” Robbe said. 

“I should thank you properly.”

“Hmm… how are you going to do that?” 

“Let me show you.”

Tugging him closer by the back of his neck, Sander brought Robbe close to him, dragging their lips together smoothly and certainly. Robbe’s head was spinning, trying to pull Sander closer and keep the plate level, as Sander kissed him deeply, his hand moving to cradle his face. Sander separated their lips before placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. Robbe tried to turn his head, to join their lips again, but before he could, Sander’s grip tightened on his jaw, keeping him still.

“Sander,” Robbe said, half a warning. Sander agonizingly trailed down Robbe’s jaw, placing kisses on every inch of skin he encountered. Once he had covered Robbe’s jaw with gentle kisses, his lips dragged down his neck. Every other kiss, Sander would bite down on his neck before swiping his tongue across it as though he was trying to soothe Robbe’s skin. Robbe swallowed, focused on keeping the plate steady or else it would topple over on the bed, resulting in a gigantic mess. 

Suddenly, Sander stopped. Pressing his nose into the crook of Robbe’s neck, Sander sucked in a breath. The nerves radiated off Sander in waves, his hand falling from his jaw. Robbe turned to press a kiss against Sander’s temple and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. After a few seconds of nervous silence, Sander spoke up, his lips gliding across Robbe’s neck, “When I woke up and saw you were gone, I thought that you left me.” 

Even with Sander tucked into his side, his face buried and hidden, Robbe recognized the insecurity in his voice. It was so similar to his late-night “Are you going to leave me?” The tremor in his voice made Robbe want to wrap him in a hug until he didn’t think that anymore, to kiss him until Sander felt better. But, Robbe knew insecurity like an old friend—how it always tended to pop back up without really meaning to, how it never seemed to go away when you wanted it to.

Robbe placed the plate onto the bed, making sure that it was seated where it wouldn’t topple over. Once he did, Robbe scooted closer to him, as close as he could, and draped his legs across Sander’s lap. Sander let him, wrapping his arms around Robbe’s waist, gripping him tightly. Robbe ran his hands through Sander’s hair, tugging onto the strands until he looked up with nervous green eyes. Once they were face-to-face, close enough that Robbe could lean forward to kiss him if he wanted to, he whispered, “Never.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, an emotional look flashed over Sander’s face and his eyes glassed over again. It was like he couldn’t believe that Robbe would say such a thing—and Robbe knew the weight of his declaration. Before the beach trip, he didn’t want to let Sander go, and now, after a week of uncertainty and being apart, the feeling had only increased. Robbe never wanted to be separate from him again. 

Leaning forward, Robbe closed the gap, kissing him gently. Digging his fingers against Robbe’s scalp, Sander urged the kiss on and he dragged his tongue across Robbe’s bottom lip. His mouth fell open in response and Sander wasted no time licking into his mouth. One of his hands dropped to Robbe’s waist and his thumb slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, tracing patterns along his skin. Robbe clung tightly to the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, and Sander let out a sigh. 

As they separated, Robbe caught Sander’s bottom lip between his teeth, biting down lightly. Sander laughed, nuzzling their noses together before pulling back. Staring at him with a peaceful look on his face, Sander looked wrecked with bright red lips and flushed cheeks. Robbe had a feeling that he didn’t look much better. He was now entirely in Sander’s lap, his legs wrapped securely around his waist, and the food forgotten on the bed. 

Playing with the collar of his shirt, Robbe confessed for only Sander to hear, “I would never leave you.” Sander grinned, happy and beautiful, as he looked at Robbe with that intense look in his eyes—the one that made Robbe feel so seen and secure in front of him. “Besides,” Robbe added, his tone light. “It’s my bedroom.”

Sander laughed, shaking his head, but his eyes were bright and his grin was wide. “Silly me,” Sander said, leaning closer to him. 

“Silly you,” Robbe breathed out before Sander’s lips were back against his own. 

This kiss was slow, almost overwhelmingly so, and Robbe pulled him closer, held him tighter. Sander gripped his waist a little tighter and held him against his chest. When Sander pulled back, Robbe chased after his lips and connected them again, and again, and again. Finally, Sander reached up, gripping Robbe’s jaw to stop him from following him. Robbe whined, leaning back, and Sander chuckled. “Ask the question,” Sander said. 

“Huh?” Robbe asked, confused. 

Sander’s demeanor turned serious, a sorrowful look on his face. Leaning back on the bed, Sander braced himself with both hands, making sure to avoid the plate of food. Robbe could see the nervous look in his eyes as Robbe leaned back as well. Then, Sander said, quietly, “Ask the question, Robbe. I know that you’ve wanted to ask it more than once.” 

Robbe sank further on Sander’s lap. Swallowing down his nerves, Robbe ran his hand across his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. Raising his eyes back to meet Sander’s, who was waiting nervously, Robbe asked, “What happened while I was at the beach house?” Despite his insistence, Sander had now grown nervous and quiet. Unable to handle the silence, Robbe couldn’t stop himself from talking to fill it, “I know something happened, something that made you change your—”

Before Robbe could finish the statement, Sander was cutting him off. “I never changed my mind, Robbe,” he said. 

“I know, it just—”

“I know what it looked like and I’m sorry I made it seem that way,” Sander said. Robbe could hear the sincerity in his voice, knew that he was telling the truth, and he swallowed. “I never changed my mind, Robbe. I promise.” A look of insecurity crossed his face in a flash. “Do you believe me?”

Robbe nodded. “I do.” He swallowed, glancing down at his hands on Sander’s stomach. “Was it something I did, Sander?” Even though Sander started shaking his head, Robbe continued. “Because that’s the only thing I can think of and if I did something, you need to tell me.”

Sander cupped his face, trailing one of his thumbs down Robbe’s jaw. “You didn’t do anything, Robbe,” he whispered. Robbe leaned against him, nudging their noses together, and Sander mirrored his action. “And I didn’t change my mind.” 

“So what happened?” Robbe asked. “Britt told me that you walked her home on Tuesday after having dinner with her parents and that you started texting her more after that. And… that’s when I started thinking you were acting strange too.”

“I know, I know,” Sander said, letting out a breath as he gripped Robbe’s thighs briefly. Robbe ran a hand across Sander’s shoulders, feeling his muscles tense beneath his fingers. “After I walked Britt home, I headed back to my apartment. On my way, I ran into Thomas.” 

“Thomas?” Robbe asked. “As in my ex-boyfriend, Thomas?”

Sander nodded and Robbe felt a brief surge of anger whip through his bloodstream. But he stayed quiet as Sander ran a hand down his leg. “As I was passing by the bar, the one where I met you, he stumbled out of it with one of the bartenders helping him to a cab. He was completely wasted and pissed off at you, I think, and everyone at the same time. He nearly ran into me and I helped him the rest of the way. Once he realized that it was me, he started yelling at me and saying all these things about you.”

Robbe swallowed. “What did he say?”

“It’s not important, Robbe—”

“Yes, it is,” he said. Robbe knew that he was being a little more forceful than he meant to be, but he had seen the hurt in Sander’s eyes, the twisted remains of Thomas’s harsh words. There was white-hot anger boiling in his gut and even though it wasn’t like him, Robbe wanted to hunt down his ex. Why couldn’t Thomas be gone? Letting out a breath, Robbe said, “Sander, if it hurt you so badly, it is important.”

Sander sighed. “It’s not necessarily what he said at the moment,” Sander said. “I knew he was just a pissed off ex and while he’s certainly not the first ex to be pissed at me, hopefully, he’ll be the last—plus, I could tell that he was drunk out of his mind. So, at first, I was able to write it all off as just that: an upset and drunk ex… but…” Sander paused, bowing his head. “But, as the week went on, I kept thinking about his words again and they started affecting me more and more until they were all I was thinking about—”

“Sander,” Robbe said, gently. “What did he say?” 

Sander sighed. “That you would get bored of me and leave me, just as you left him,” Sander said. His voice was so quiet and small. Robbe opened his mouth to speak, to remind him that it wasn’t true, but Sander shook his head before continuing. “And what he said was ridiculous—because he was the one who broke up with you—but it was like he managed to hit all of my insecurities in one quick, drunken shout. The longer it went, the worse it became and it just all caught up to me on Thursday and I—” He cut himself off, swallowing obviously. 

“I understand,” Robbe said. Sander glanced away from him, preferring to look at his shirt, and Robbe ran a hand through the hair on the nape of his neck. “Your thoughts are like the mural, right? The ocean slamming down until it feels like you’re drowning?” Sander’s eyes flickered up to him, surprised. “Thomas has always been frighteningly good at figuring out insecurities, Sander, but he is wrong, okay? I am not going anywhere.” 

Sander stayed quiet, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m never going to go anywhere and I will make sure to tell you that every day,” Robbe said. He leaned to him, rubbing their noses together, and Sander leaned against him. He sat up, taking Robbe with him, and Sander placed his hands on Robbe’s waist, gripping it tightly. Robbe placed his hands along Sander’s jawline and kissed his nose. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m going to prove it to you every day. Is that okay?”

Sander nodded before letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry,” Sander said. His breath fanned out against Robbe’s face, warming his skin. Robbe pulled him closer, feeling the nervous tension in his shoulders. “For making you feel that way… From the minute that you left last Friday, I wanted to chase after you and kiss you senseless but my thoughts were just so  _ loud _ and I thought that you would be safer if I… I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me—”

“You can never hurt me, Sander—”

“I just did, Robbe,” Sander said, hurriedly. “I’ve spent the last week hurting you, not responding to messages and making you feel like I never—” 

“Okay,” Robbe said, running a hand through Sander’s hair. He began to calm, leaning his head in the direction of Robbe’s palm, and Robbe pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Let me rephrase that… You would never hurt me to hurt me, okay? No matter what happened this past week, I am going to forgive you, Sander—and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Sander swallowed, his voice breaking as he said, “Really?”

At the hurt and pain in his voice, Robbe could feel his heart ripping into two. Sander didn’t believe that Robbe forgave him—Sander didn’t believe that Robbe was never going to leave. How many people had left Sander? How many times had he been hurt? His gut knew that he would never be able to tell Sander enough right now, so Robbe leaned forward and kissed him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. As much as he could, Robbe tried to pour every ounce of feeling into the kiss—to let Sander know with certainty that he was never going to leave, to let him know that he forgave him.

When they separated, Robbe placed a flurry of kisses across his face before declaring, “Really.” 

For the first time since Robbe returned to the bedroom, Sander smiled. It was bright and it was genuine, but Robbe could see the emotion fluttering in it—overwhelmed but happy. Wrapping his arms around Sander’s shoulders, Robbe pulled him closer and Sander clung to his body. Glancing at Robbe’s lips, Sander tilted his chin up a little and Robbe was more than willing to kiss him again—for the rest of the afternoon—or forever. 

But, before their lips could meet, their stomachs let out a loud growl in unison. 

Unwrapping his arm from Sander’s shoulders, Robbe chuckled. “Looks like our stomachs had enough waiting,” Robbe teased, trying not to let his disappointment show. When Robbe attempted to climb off his lap, Sander gripped his hips tightly, not wanting him to move. Getting the message, Robbe stopped trying to get off and simply reached for the set-aside plate and the discarded forks.

As Robbe took a bite of the scrambled eggs, Sander said matter-of-factly, “I don’t know how this food is going to compare when I have the most delicious thing right in front of me.” Robbe could feel the flush creeping on his face. Flirty, confident Sander was back in full force. The insecure Sander was still there, swimming in the broken pool of his eyes, but Robbe knew his jokes meant he was feeling better. Plus, the sight of Robbe’s pink cheeks brought Sander’s bright smile back.

“We’ll see about that,” Robbe said, scooping up a bite of eggs.

“Hey, I’m dead serious—” Sander was cut off as Robbe shoved the bite of eggs into his open mouth. Swallowing, Sander started drooling as he reached blindly behind him, “Oh my god. That’s amazing! Where’s the other fork?” 

Robbe laughed loudly as Sander reached for the second fork.

* * *

**Zondag 13:38**

* * *

Yesterday, after they had finished their cold breakfast, Sander had raced into the kitchen to thank Jonathan for the food, with Robbe and the empty plate trailing behind. Leaving the comfort and solitude of Robbe’s room had been a mistake. Now that Milan wasn’t in a hurry to leave, he had proceeded to interrogate Sander about everything that Robbe didn’t tell him. Sander had dutifully answered all of Milan’s questions—going into meticulous detail about their picnic in the park and their first kiss by the warehouse, to Milan’s glee—and Robbe was the one sitting on the kitchen counter, writhing in embarrassment. 

Before Milan could ask another question, the blushing Robbe had dragged Sander back into his room. Even as Sander had continued to tease him, Robbe knew that his words packed no punch and he had pulled Sander into a kiss. The two of them had fallen on Robbe’s bed before putting a YouTube video on one of their phones and they had stayed there until Milan knocked on the bedroom door, asking for Sander’s favorite pizza and demanding they join him and Jonathan for a Harry Potter marathon.

About halfway through the second movie, Sander had promptly said he was a Slytherin. Robbe had reasoned he could’ve been a Gryffindor or a Ravenclaw and Milan had simply laughed. Jonathan had insisted Milan and Robbe were both Hufflepuffs—which Robbe admitted—before Sander said Robbe could be a Ravenclaw. 

As they argued about Jonathan’s house, Zoë had returned home with Senne in tow. At the sight of Sander lying on the couch with Robbe coiled in his lap, Senne had let out an obvious breath of relief before exclaiming, “Oh, thank God!” Sander had laughed and Senne had proceeded to tackle them, trapping Robbe between their arms. Zoë had doubled over in laughter as Robbe tried to squirm out of their hold and Jonathan stated, “Senne is a Gryffindor,” to kick start the conversation again. 

As Jonathan had made another bag of popcorn and Milan had put in the fourth movie, Robbe turned in Sander’s arms to face him, quietly whispering, “Did you need to head back to your apartment soon?” 

Sander had glanced down at him with a soft look in his eyes. “Did you want me to go?”

Robbe shook his head. “No,” Robbe said. “I just didn’t know if you had work tomorrow. And I don’t want Emilie to think that I’m just stealing you away all the time.”

Sander chuckled. “I don’t have work until Monday and I’m not leaving until there.” As Robbe had smiled up at him, the confident bravado of Sander’s faltered. “Unless you wanted me to leave tonight?” Robbe shook his head, leaning to kiss him. Sander kissed him back in full force, wrapping him securely in his arms. Robbe forgot that they weren’t alone until someone hit them with a pillow, jolting them apart. 

It was Senne. “Come on, lovebirds,” he teased. “The movie is starting.”

“Really?” Sander asked. “You wanna go?” 

Waking up on Sunday morning with Sander’s nose pressed against his neck and his arms around his waist… it was a feeling that Robbe hoped would never go away. For breakfast, all six of them crowded around the small table in the kitchen, bumping elbows as they passed food around. Zoë texted Lucas a photo of the table and giggled at his jealous response. 

Once breakfast was over, Zoë raced out of the apartment, needing to get to work before her late morning shift. Senne left shortly after, meeting up with Max and his girlfriend. While Senne extended the invitation to Sander, Robbe felt his heart do a flip when Sander said, “Maybe next time.” Jonathan had to head out to his mom’s house and Milan went with him. Being the only ones left, Robbe and Sander did the dishes before returning to the comfort of Robbe’s bed, curled up together.

Robbe didn’t want to leave the comfort of his bed or the safety of Sander’s arms. Tomorrow, the two of them would return to “normal”—the type of normal where they didn’t wake up in each other’s arms or hold hands beneath the kitchen table. Since their first kiss and spending the night at Sander’s apartment, Robbe always woke up in the middle of the night to find no one in the bed with him and he had a feeling that it would only be more common now. 

As the day went on, Robbe’s need to stay in bed grew tenfold. But when Sander turned to put on another Youtube video—a Pokémon YouTuber/Streamer whose intro Robbe memorized in an hour—Sander spotted the time on his phone and turned to him. “Hey, it’s almost time for you to stream.”

Robbe blinked up at him, half-asleep against his shoulder. “Huh?” 

Sander showed him the phone—Robbe’s feeling too euphoric from being in Sander’s arms to be embarrassed about the drawing as his lock screen photo—and Robbe focused on the time.  _ 13:38.  _ Robbe let out a groan, snuggling further into Sander’s chest. “I don’t normally stream on Sundays.” 

“That’s true,” he said. Sander ran a hand through Robbe’s curls, giving them a gentle tug and trying to pull him up from his chest. Robbe let out a low whine but turned to look up at him all the same. “But you also didn’t stream yesterday. Generally, if you didn’t stream on Saturday, you stream on Sunday.”

“That’s true…”

“So, are you?”

Robbe shook his head, leaning back against Sander’s chest. “I’m not going to stream today,” Robbe said, letting out a breath. Sander turned to him, a curious look in his eyes. “Since I ended the stream early on Friday and I didn’t stream yesterday, I know that I should probably stream but… I don’t want to get up.” 

Sander laughed. “You should.”

“Why?” Robbe asked. 

“For lots of reasons,” Sander said, chuckling. “It’s your job—and your main source of income—and you love doing it. I know you do. Remember, I’ve watched nearly all of your streams in the past month and a half and it’s amazing, like no one I’ve ever seen before.” Robbe felt his cheeks flush and that was before Sander rolled them over, hovering a breath above him. “Plus, you’re really hot when you stream.” 

Robbe chuckled, making an obvious show that he was rolling his eyes.

Sander leaned closer so their lips brushing, but not quite kissing. Robbe extended his neck to try and connect their lips, but Sander was evil and pulled back at the last second. Robbe groaned and Sander grinned like he won the lottery. “I promise that I’ll be good if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“You are quite distracting,” Robbe said. Sander chuckled, pressing a feather-light kiss against his lips. When Robbe whined, Sander kissed him again—deeper this time, pushing his mouth open instantly and lowering his body against him. Robbe pulled Sander closer, tugging at the fabric of his t-shirt. Sander wouldn’t budge, so Robbe tugged a little harder, trying to get him to come closer, to kiss him harder.

But Sander, ever the temptation, simply pulled away at the last second and beamed down at him. “Don’t worry,” Sander said, grinning. Robbe blinked up at him. “I’ll go swing by my apartment for clothes to wear tonight and tomorrow.” Robbe barely had time to react before Sander was pressing another fleeting kiss to his lips. “Then, for the rest of your stream, I’ll stay at the café downstairs.”

With a sense of finality, Sander rolled off of him, leaving Robbe stunned on the bed. 

“What?” Robbe asked, sitting up. Robbe stood up from the bed, watching Sander grab his gray denim jeans from the floor from where they had been abandoned on Friday night. He quickly swapped Robbe’s borrowed sweats—the ones Robbe always had to pull up because they were too big but managed to look perfect on Sander—for his jeans. As Sander buttoned his jeans and reached for his belt, Robbe asked, softly, “You’re leaving?” 

With the belt in one hand, Sander glanced up, catching his gaze before Robbe glanced away. Instantly, he abandoned it, dropping it back on the floor, and wrapped Robbe in his arms. Once Robbe sunk into his embrace, Sander placed a kiss against his head. “Only temporarily,” Sander said, his voice sounding so sure in Robbe’s ear. “As soon as your stream is over, I’ll come back to you. Or you can come to me and we can go get something to eat.” 

Robbe swallowed, feeling silly as he said, “So, you’re coming back?” 

Sander weaved his hand through Robbe’s hair. He gently pulled on the strands, coaxing Robbe to tilt his head back so they were looking at each other. Once Robbe’s eyes were on his own, Sander said, “Yes, I am.” Robbe nodded, standing on his toes to bring their lips together. Sander kissed him like he was precious, holding him tightly against him, and a warmth shot through Robbe with a frightening intensity. 

Sander broke their kiss, briefly, to place two more feather-light kisses against his lips. Robbe laughed and tried to lean forward to kiss him. But Sander dodged his kiss at the last second, pressing one against his cheekbone and then his jaw. Finally, Sander placed one last kiss against the curve of his jaw before holding Robbe tightly. The two of them swayed in the middle of the room, simply reveling in each other’s presence. “Are you sure that you’re alright with me staying another night?” 

“Yes, I promise,” Robbe breathed out. “I want you here and you never have to ask. You’re always welcome to share my bed. If you want, I’ll even clean out a drawer for you.” 

Sander laughed. “I’d like that,” he admitted. Pulling him closer, Sander kissed him again. It was brief before they were separating and Sander was shoving him toward his desk. Before Sander left, he paused to place one final kiss on Robbe’s mouth and he said, “Good luck,” with the brightest smile on his face. Robbe beamed at him, relinquishing one more lingering kiss out of him before Sander left the apartment with his bag on his shoulder and his Doc Martens on.

There was a part of Robbe that worried that Sander would never return—that Robbe had let him walk out the door without a fight. However, as he wrapped up his stream, the sight of ‘earthlingoddity:  _ see you soon ;) _ ’ in the flying stream of  _ bye _ ’s made his heart swell a dozen times… and briefly short-circuit his brain that he nearly forgot to end the actual stream.

* * *

**Maandag 11:52**

* * *

Broerrrs + Luc

13 July, 11:52

Jens:  _ ROBBE. IJZERMANS. _ _   
_ _ What part of ‘text us about it’ did you not understand? _

Robbe:  _ Lucas. _ _   
_ _ You could’ve warned me at least. _

Lucas:  _ Sorry. _

Aaron:  _ What happened to ‘Chill Jens’? _

Moyo:  _ Caps lock must’ve been on.  _

Jens:  _ Caps lock was on. _ _   
_ _ Didn’t feel like changing it though. _ _   
_ _ It served a purpose. _

Moyo:  _ What’s going on? _

Aaron:  _ Yeah, what do VDS know that we don’t? _

Lucas:  _ Um, do you want me to tell them? _

Robbe: _ I can’t have one blissful Monday afternoon, can I? _

Aaron:  _ Of course not, it’s Monday. _

Lucas:  _ Robbe had a *visitor* this weekend. _ _   
_ _ Someone who showed up on Friday night. _ _   
_ _ And didn’t leave until this morning  _ 👀 _   
_ _ Should my sources be correct…  _

Robbe:  _ Zoë or Milan? _

Lucas:  _ My sources are confidential. _

Moyo:  _ Please tell me it was Sander. _

Robbe:  _ Yes, it was Sander. _

Moyo:  _ Thank god.  _ _   
_ _ Wait, are you being serious? _

Jens:  _ Yes! And *someone* forgot to tell us. _

Robbe: _ I’m sorry, I was busy. _

Aaron:  _ Yeah, we know what you were doing all weekend. _

Robbe:  _ Cuddling and watching Harry Potter? _

Moyo:  _ You’re boring. _

Robbe:  _ Haha  _ 🖕🏻 _   
_ _ Sander didn’t think so. _ _   
_ _ Also, who else would it be, Moyo? _

Moyo:  _ Worst case scenario? Thomas. _ _   
_ _ Best case scenario? A random one night stand. _

Jens:  _ Thomas? As if. _

Moyo:  _ That’s why it was the worst-case scenario. _

Lucas:  _ If it was Thomas, none of us would be able to stop Jens. _ _   
_ _ And I’m thankful it’s not because I’m sick of his face. _ _   
_ _ And my boyfriend isn’t in jail. _

Aaron:  _ Seconded. _

Moyo:  _ Third. _

Jens:  _ You guys know I almost always agree with Lucas. _ _   
_ _ But I am also sick of Thomas’s face.  _ _   
_ _ And I would need bail money.  _

Robbe:  _ Yes, I know. I have a rotten ex-boyfriend. _ _   
_ _ Luckily, I have a new one that’s ten times better. _

Jens:  _ Yes. _ _   
_ _ Did he explain why he was distant? _

Robbe:  _ Yes, he did and I forgive him. _ _   
_ _ I would’ve forgiven him anyway, but he did explain. _ _   
_ _ And we’re together now. _

Jens:  _ Good. That’s all that matters. _

Robbe:  _ So, since we all know what *I* was doing this weekend: _ _   
_ _ how were all of your weekends? _

Lucas:  _ the Netherlands was fun. _ _   
_ _ Got to see Isa and the girls again. _ _   
_ _ Plus, Mom kept trying to force-feed Jens. _ _   
_ _ She told him he was too skinny. _

Jens:  _ She said the same thing to you. _ _   
_ _ Why are you singling me out? _

Aaron:  _ Amber and I went out to lunch with her mom on Sunday. _

Moyo:  _ My girlfriend’s roommates were out on Saturday night. _ _   
_ _ So we ended up cooking together.  _ _   
_ _ The first try was a bit of a disaster, but we managed  _ _   
_ _ to make something good the second time. _

Robbe:  _ That’s great. I’m glad everyone had fun. _

Lucas: _ When are we going to meet this mystery girl, Moyo? _ _   
_ _ You seem smitten. _

Jens:  _ Yeah, you do. _ _   
_ _ And you call me whipped.  _ _   
_ _ You should see you. _

Robbe:  _ But you are whipped. _

Jens:  _ I’m not denying it. _ _   
_ _ But he’s also whipped. _

Lucas:  _ You are. _

Moyo:  _ When are we going to meet Sander? _ _   
_ _ As your friends, he’s just as important as you are. _

Robbe:  _ I don’t know. _ _   
_ _ Probably about the same time that you introduce us to Noor. _

Jens:  _ Wait, Noor is your mystery girl? _

Moyo:  _ Aaron! _

Aaron:  _ I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING. _ _   
_ _ I haven’t even told Amber! _

Jens:  _ Wait, Aaron knew about this and not me? _ _   
_ _ I’m offended, bro. _

Lucas:  _ I’d like to know how Robbe knew. _ _   
_ _ Because if Aaron didn’t tell Amber, he didn’t tell Robbe. _

Robbe:  _ My source is confidential. _

Moyo:  _ Robbe, I hate you. _

Robbe:  _ Don’t hate me. She’s a great girl. _ _   
_ _ Plus, it’s not like you two are sly. _ _   
_ _ At our movie night, you two were far more  _ _   
_ _ comfortable than you should’ve been. _

Moyo:  _ Yeah, you’re right. _

Jens:  _ I feel like my entire world has changed.  _

* * *

**Dinsdag 17:45**

* * *

When Robbe had stepped into the tattoo parlor a little before 17:00, Alicia had leapt over the edge of the counter and bounced across the empty lobby. She had tackled him, nearly causing both of them to crash onto the floor, and her electric blue ponytail smacked him in the face. Robbe recoiled slightly from the accidental slap before sinking into her embrace. Once she pulled away, she bounced on her feet, looking like she might explode from excitement. 

“I’m so happy to see you here again!” she said, grinning. “I was starting to worry that I would have to deal with grumpy Sander for the rest of my life.” Robbe chuckled and Alicia smiled proudly. “But I’m glad to see that you two have made up—you did make up, right? He has just seemed happier today and yesterday and I’m assuming it’s because of you.”

Robbe laughed. “Yes, we did.”

Alicia bounced again, still grinning. “That’s great! His shift is over in a few minutes…” She trailed off, eyeing him suspiciously. “But I have a feeling that you already knew that.” While Alicia continued to eye him with playful suspicion, Robbe shrugged and grinned. “Sorry, my mom always tells me that I seem strange to people who don’t know me. It’s just I’ve heard so much about you from Sander and he’s practically family so I’m pretty protective of—”

“No, it’s okay, I understand—”

As if on cue, Sander stepped out of the hallway. Even after a long day of work, his bleach-blond hair was still immaculate and pristine. Today, he was wearing another black shirt but this one had  _ Emilie’s Tattoo Parlor _ printed across his chest. He looked tired, but Robbe wasn’t surprised. He had worked the early shift. 

Stopping at the desk, he placed down a binder and adjusted the strap of his bag a little higher on his shoulder. Glancing up, his eyes caught Robbe talking with Alicia. As soon as he spotted them, he grinned brightly over at them, all tiredness fading from his face, and said, “Alicia, leave my boyfriend alone.” His tone was light and teasing as he crossed the room. Sander wrapped Robbe in a hug before moving towards the parlor door. “I only have him for an hour before he has to go to work.” 

“Oh right,” Alicia said, smacking her head like she forgot. She grinned at Robbe, waving goodbye at the two of them. “Have a good dinner!” 

“Tell Britt hi!” 

Leaving the tattoo parlor, Robbe collected his bike before following Sander down a well-tuned series of turns to their destination. With one arm around Sander’s waist and the other steering his bike, Robbe felt like he was right where he was meant to. Robbe didn’t know where they were going—just to some restaurant that Robbe  _ had  _ to try—but he followed Sander’s gentle tugs and guidance with ease. Once they arrived at the hole-in-the-wall restaurant, Robbe locked his bike up and let Sander drag him inside. 

Robbe didn’t know what he had been expecting from the small restaurant, but it was one of the best pizzas that he’d ever had. As soon as they walked in, the cashier recognized Sander and proceeded to tease him about taking too long to bring his boyfriend around. When the cashier brought them their pizzas, moving before Sander could get up to get them, they were hot to the touch and fresh from the oven. 

As they ate their food, Sander would reach out to feed Robbe a bite of his or brush a hand on his thigh beneath the table. Every time Sander did something, paid attention to him, his heart grew three sizes. Even so early into their relationship, he felt so cared for. Robbe tried to do the same. He would reach out to hold his knee or hold Sander’s hand beneath the table. And Sander never shied away from Robbe’s touch. In fact, he seemed to blossom with it. 

As they left the restaurant, hand in hand and laughing, the cashier tried to say it was on the house for their favorite customer and his boyfriend. Robbe blushed profusely at their comment and Sander merely chuckled, thanking them. As soon as the cook called the cashier’s name, Sander quickly dropped the money to cover the order (and more) into the tip jar before dragging Robbe from the restaurant. 

Even though it wasn’t that long of a ride, Sander insisted on driving Robbe back to the flatshare. Their only trouble was getting Robbe’s bike in the car, but they managed to make it work by tilting it a little. The ride itself was short and relaxing. Sander drove with one hand on the wheel and the other was wrapped gently with Robbe’s hand. As he weaved through the traffic, Sander talked in vivid detail about a tattoo that he did earlier this afternoon as Robbe listened intently. 

As they pulled into a stop outside the building, Robbe got curious. “Hey, Sander.”

“Yeah?” Sander asked. 

“What were you thinking about, that night at the bar?” Robbe asked. 

It had been a question on Robbe’s mind for a while. His thoughts of the night were abundantly clear—okay, maybe slightly buzzed—that the random stranger with an armful of tattoos who sat down next to him and offered him a smoke and gave him an impromptu therapy session was  **hot** . As he nursed his hangover the next morning, Robbe had briefly entertained the thought of meeting him again but Robbe had thought it was an impossible feat. Seeing Sander walk in that bar less than a week later… it had felt like a sign.

One that Robbe had been simultaneously curious and terrified of. 

When Sander was quiet, simply staring at the steering wheel with a small smile on his face, Robbe added, “I’m sure that it must’ve been one hell of a crappy impression.” 

Sander glanced up at him with a small look of disbelief and a scoff. “What makes you think that?” Sander teased. 

Robbe turned in his seat, facing Sander with a mischievous smile on his face. He placed their joined hands in his lap, running his finger over the back of his hand. “I don’t know, but if I saw a guy sitting quite dramatically on the floor—I think that was your wording,” Robbe said and Sander laughed, “and lamenting his ex-boyfriend, it wouldn’t have been the best first impression I’ve ever made.”

“I don’t know,” Sander said. He put the car in park before turning to Robbe, who was waiting impatiently beside him. Sander tugged their joined hands back into his lap before turning Robbe’s over so the palm was facing upward. Sander trailed a finger along the lines of his palm, leaving Robbe squirming in his seat. “I think you made quite the first impression.”

This time, it was Robbe’s turn to scoff. He leaned against the leather of the car, relishing in the feeling of Sander’s doodles on his palm. “You know as well as I do, I could’ve done a lot better than bitching about my ex with someone—”

“No,” Sander said, interrupting him lightly. His voice was quiet like he was having a private conversation with himself and Robbe watched on, biting down on his lip. “That wasn’t the time I meant.” 

Robbe’s eyebrows pulled tight, staring at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Sander’s eyes darted up to meet Robbe. He could see the panicked expression in his eyes, like he didn’t expect Robbe to hear his secret confession. Quickly, his expression shifted to nervous. A small lopsided grin formed on his lips as he tilted his head to the side. Sander’s hand fidgeted around his and Robbe twisted his hand around to grasp at Sander’s fingers. 

“Sander,” Robbe said. “What is it?” 

“Um,” Sander said, biting down on his lip. “Last August, I went to the bar with my roommates after a long day at work. While I was waiting for them to show up, I spotted this beautiful man standing at the bar talking with the owner like he did it every day.” 

Sander’s eyes raised, catching his brown ones in an instant, and Robbe was certain his heart stopped in his chest. Him, Robbe realized. Sander had seen him before. 

“Before I could work up the nerve to talk to him, to get the name of this beautiful man who turned my world upside down in an instant, his boyfriend showed up and whisked him away from me. I thought that was the end of it—that I missed my chance until…” Sander trailed off. 

Robbe felt his stomach flip, nervous and excited. Bringing Sander’s hand to his mouth, Robbe placed a kiss against his knuckles. Sander followed him with a heavy gaze in his eyes and the corners of his lips quirked up nervously. “Until?” Robbe asked, his lips brushing against Sander’s knuckles. 

“Until…” Sander continued. Robbe scooted closer to him—or as much as he could in the small confine of the car. He was practically leaning over the console, trying to get as close to Sander as he could. Sander glanced at Robbe nervously. “Until last month. It had been a rough few months, but I was starting to come out of it. It was my first time out of the apartment other than for work for a month and I looked over and saw the beautiful man in the bar again.”

Robbe giggled. 

“As soon as I saw him, I knew that he was the one. My mother used to tell me that there was no such thing as a coincidence,” Sander said, reaching up to wipe a thumb across Robbe’s flushed cheeks. “She used to go on and on about how ‘what is meant for you won’t pass you by’—”

“Is that what the quote on your side is?” Robbe asked, quietly. Sander paused, staring at him. “I saw it on Saturday but your arm was covering most of it.” 

Sander grinned. “Yes, it is. Now, back to the story—” 

Robbe mumbled out a quiet ‘sorry’ and Sander gave him a stern look. 

“When I saw that beautiful man for the second time, I knew that the universe was trying to give me a sign and I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity. When I saw him head outside to get some air, I followed. But I only managed to learn his name before the universe ripped him away from me again.” He let out a heavy sigh and slumped his shoulders. “But, lucky for me, I managed to find him again, not even a week later, and I knew that I couldn’t let him get away from me again.” 

“Wow,” Robbe said, breathless. Sander looked up at him with nervous eyes, staring at Robbe intensely. He let out a breath, reaching up to take Sander’s face in his hands. “You really saw me that long ago?”

“Yes,” Sander whispered. “Since the moment I saw you, I’ve wanted you, Robbe IJzermans… even before I knew what your name was.” His eyes scanned Robbe’s face. “Are you mad?” 

Staring at Sander for a few seconds, Robbe hastily undid the seatbelt around him. He could see the worried look on Sander’s face, like Robbe was going to climb out and never look back, but Robbe simply climbed on the seat. His knees dug into the leather as Robbe leaned across the center to press a deep kiss against Sander’s lips. He clung to the strands of Sander’s icy blond hair, holding on for dear life, as Sander let out a grunt. 

Since the beginning, Sander had always seen him. Whether it was last month outside the bar or last year inside the bar, Sander had seen him. He had seen Robbe in the comfort of his bed, in the disarray of a friendly gathering, desperate in a tattoo parlor, and so many moments in between. Robbe wanted Sander to see him in all of his moments and moods, just like he wanted to see all of Sander’s faces and facades. He wanted all of Sander, everything he could get them. 

Sander’s words from last Friday came rushing back:  _ Robbe IJzermans, since the moment that I first saw you, I have wanted you.  _

“So you’re not mad?” Sander asked, breaking their kiss. 

Robbe shook his head, practically panting against Sander’s mouth. “No, I’m not mad.”

“Good,” Sander said, quietly. “I was worried you might be.” 

“I’m not. I promise.” 

Robbe moved to kiss Sander again. Robbe wanted to kiss him a little harder. Robbe wanted to pour every single emotion bursting out of his chest into the kiss for Sander—for Sander to taste—at the same intensity Robbe was experiencing from him. But, at the last second, Sander pulled away a mischievous smile on his lips and Robbe couldn’t help the whine. “What were you thinking the night that you first saw me outside the bar?”

Robbe chuckled. “I could only think of one thing—” Pausing, Robbe leaned forward. His knees were strained from this position, but he didn’t care. Stopping a hair away from connecting their lips fully, Sander glanced up at Robbe with a mischievous look in his eye as Robbe grinned. “— _ Fuuucccckkk, _ he’s so hot.”

Sander laughed but his laugh was muffled by Robbe’s lips pressing against his. 

* * *

**Woensdag 15:49**

* * *

Zoë

15 July, 15:49

Zoë:  _ Robbe, are you home? _ _   
_ _ Or are you streaming? _

Robbe:  _ I am streaming.  _ _   
_ _ Is everything okay? _

Zoë:  _ No, not really.  _ _   
_ _ I can’t find my keys and I’m about to leave work. _ _   
_ _ Is there any way you can check my room to see if they’re there? _ _   
_ _ If they’re not there, I’ll need to check my locker again. _

Robbe:  _ Yeah, I can. _ _   
_ _ Where do you think they might be? _

Zoë: _ On my dresser. _ _   
_ _ Maybe my nightstand? _

Robbe:  _ Let me check. _ _   
_ _ I found them. They were on your nightstand. _

Zoë: _ Thank you so much, Robbe.  _ _   
_ _ I’m on my way home now. _ _   
_ _ Could you possibly let me in when I get there? _

Robbe:  _ Of course. _ _   
_ _ Text me when you get here. _ _   
_ _ I probably won’t hear you knock. _

Zoë:  _ Ah, yes, because of your headphones. _ _   
_ _ Don’t worry. I’ll text you. _

* * *

**Woensdag 16:21**

* * *

Before every stream, Robbe created a private match on Fortnite. It was always easier to create it beforehand so he didn’t have to worry about people in the chat—the obnoxious ones who believed Robbe didn’t know what to do, screaming what he should be doing… even as he was doing it. With each stream, there was a new password for the private match. It allowed everyone a fair chance of getting in; plus, it helped so people wouldn’t be trying to get in before the stream started. 

After two or three matches, Robbe would ask the viewers in the match to leave so that others could get a chance to play as well. On the off-chance that someone refused to leave, Robbe would close the match and make it over again. Whenever the Broerrrs decided to join him, they would stay in the match permanently and bicker with one another. It was always fun and exciting, playing with new people, especially with people who watched Robbe every day. 

Once Zoë’s message had come through, Robbe announced to his chat that he was taking a five minute break to get some water and stretch his legs. By a thankful happenstance, their second match had ended just in time, so he backed out to the main screen of the game before rushing to let Zoë inside. After he buzzed Zoë into the building, Robbe unlocked the front door and headed into the kitchen to get a snack. 

As he munched on a grape and searched for a clean glass, Zoë stepped into the kitchen, looking rundown and exhausted. Her hair was barely tied back in a ponytail at the base of her neck and her makeup was partially smudged. The black apron around her waist was covered in dry food, which smeared onto the black jeans she wore.

Raising an eyebrow, Robbe asked, “Bad day at work?” 

Zoë nodded, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, the day was going great until the last hour or so. One of the customers at another table got up as I walked by. If I hadn’t been carrying a large tray of food on my shoulder, it would’ve been fine. But, he hit it and the food went all over the table.” Zoë let out a heavy sigh as she leaned over the kitchen sink. “Once he tried to offer to pay me back with dinner, I realized that it had been on purpose—and so did Ryan, my manager—but I declined as politely as I could.”

Robbe nodded. “I remember Ryan. Vaguely,” Robbe said. “That sounds awful. Please tell me that the table the food was for didn’t throw a big fit.”

“No,” Zoë said, sounding defeated. “They were incredibly understanding. The cooks were upset but Ryan told them what happened.” She let out a sigh and Robbe rubbed her back. “It was just really stressful and that didn’t help and I’m just… really glad to be home.”

Robbe leaned down to press a kiss against her head. “I’m glad you’re home too.” 

“Okay, change of subject because my day was shitty and I don’t really want to talk about it anymore,” Zoë said. Robbe nodded in understanding. Suddenly, Zoë straightened up and turned toward Robbe, who was still leaning against the kitchen counter. There was a knowing look in her eye as a small smile worked its way to her lips. Then, she asked excitedly, “When are you taking Sander to meet Mama?” 

Robbe’s cheeks flushed and avoided her gaze, “I haven’t thought about it.” 

Zoë rolled her eyes, pulling a box of pasta out of the cabinet. “As if! Robbe, Mama’s opinion is so important to you and I know that you want Sander to meet her as much as you want him to meet your friends.” She sent him a sly look over her shoulder as the corner of her lips quirked up. “So, when are you going to take him?”

Robbe rolled his eyes. Zoë always knew him so well—especially when it came to his mama. “Um, I’m going to ask her about meeting him tomorrow,” Robbe said. Zoë pulled a pot out of the cupboard before turning back to him. “When she met Thomas, we had to reschedule three times before she ended up meeting him. You know what she was like when you asked to bring Senne over. She wanted to make a good impression and not have it be on a bad day.”

Zoë nodded.

“I want her to meet him,” Robbe said. “But, I want her to be comfortable and happy when she does because I don’t want her to be worrying about it, you know?” He let out a heavy sigh. “I just wish that she knew that she has nothing to worry about with scaring off our boyfriends. I just wish that she saw herself the way we see her—all of her.” 

“I wish she did, too,” Zoë admitted. Robbe popped a grape into his mouth. “But we’re going to be there for her, no matter what, and she knows that. If she forgets, we’ll remind her because we’re not going anywhere.” Robbe nodded. “Plus, Sander is a great guy and she’s going to love him because he’s so utterly in love with you.”

Despite the fact that Robbe could feel the love Sander had for him in his bones, his cheeks still flushed bright red. “Really?”

“Yes, Robbe,” Zoë said, shoving his shoulder. “You should see the way that he looks at you.” Turning back to the stove, she said, “And, as long as he treats you right and loves you, Mama is going to love him and that’s a fact. It was the same with Senne.”

“Yeah,” Robbe said. Glancing up at the clock, he pushed himself from the kitchen counter. “I’ve got to go. It’s been over five minutes now, so they’re all expecting me back.” Zoë nodded as he passed by her, placing a kiss against her cheek. 

Before he left the kitchen, Zoë called his name. Robbe paused in the doorway, turning back to the woman who had practically become his sister. “I don’t think I’ve said this yet, but I’m really happy that you’re with Sander. I know that things were rough after Thomas and I don’t know if I helped you as much as I could’ve.”

“Zoë,” Robbe said. She glanced up at him. “You were there for me. That’s all I needed.”

“I know,” Zoë said. “But I just wanted to say that Sander’s a really great guy and I think you two are pretty perfect for each other.”

Robbe smiled. “Thank you, Zoë.”

“You’re welcome,” Zoë said. She nodded to the door. “Go on, you don’t want to keep your fans waiting any longer or else they might think you’ve abandoned them.” Robbe laughed, rolling his eyes. As he stepped out the door, Zoë said, “If you want, I’ll come bring you some pasta when I’m done!” 

“Sure, you can come sit and watch me get destroyed!” 

“Maybe I will!” 

* * *

**Donderdag 18:03**

* * *

Sander:  _ Hey, how was your stream? _

Robbe: _ It was okay. _ _   
_ _ Were you watching me? _ _   
_ _ Because I literally just hit ‘end stream.’ _

Sander: _ No, I’m just now leaving work. _ _   
_ _ Did you want to meet up for dinner? _

Robbe:  _ I can’t today. _ _   
_ _ I’m going to meet my mom for dinner. _ _   
_ _ Thursday is our weekly dinner. _

Sander:  _ Right, of course. _ _   
_ _ For some reason, I thought it was Wednesday. _ _   
_ _ Which is all the more reason for my text. _

Robbe:  _ What text? _

Sander: _ Pack a bag when you get home. _

Robbe:  _ What for? _

Sander:  _ It’s a surprise ;) _ _   
_ _ But make sure you bring a swimsuit and some shorts. _

Robbe:  _ What? _ _   
_ _ What do I need a swimsuit for? _ _   
_ _ Sander? _

Sander:  _ It’s a surprise, Robbe. _ _   
_ _ The point is for you not to know. _

Robbe: _ I’m not the biggest fan of surprises. _

Sander:  _ It’s a good one, I promise. _ _   
_ _ Just getting some alone time is all. _

Robbe:  _ Okay. Does that mean I’m not streaming this weekend? _

Sander: _ Just Saturday. _ _   
_ _ I’ll have you home in time to stream on Sunday ;) _

Robbe:  _ Okay, I’ll pack a bag when I get home from dinner. _

Sander:  _ Great :) _ _   
_ _ I’ll pick you up at 17:30 tomorrow? _ _   
_ _ My shift ends at 17:00. _

Robbe: _ I’ll see you then. _

Sander:  _ Yes :) _ _   
_ _ Call me later? _

Robbe:  _ Of course. _ _   
_ _ Wouldn’t miss it :) _

* * *

**Donderdag 18:28**

* * *

As soon as Robbe stepped into her apartment, he could see the knowing look on his mama’s face. Her lips were upturned into a smile and her eyes followed Robbe into the apartment. As they were sitting down to eat their takeout (because his mama had to work late and was too hungry to cook), his phone vibrated on the table. Once the vibration started, the chorus of  _ Rebel, Rebel  _ played shortly after. Robbe rushed to turn it off, knowing it was a text from Sander, and fought the grin he knew was growing on his lips.

His mama watched his actions with a knowing look in her eyes. In an attempt to hide the blush on his cheeks, Robbe ducked his head. But avoiding her gaze did not stop her from asking, with a teasing tone, “Since when do you listen to David Bowie?” 

Robbe giggled, feeling his cheeks flush a little more. “I’ve been listening to him recently is all,” Robbe said, shrugging. He bit his lip and didn’t look up at his mother. “His music is amazing.” 

“Ah okay,” his mother said. From the light tone of her voice, Robbe could tell that his mother wasn’t buying it at all. She crossed her arms at the edge of the table and turned towards him with a critical eye. “Well, you certainly look happier than you did last week,” his mama said. She leaned towards him with a bright smile on her face and asked, “Does this have to do with Sander? Did you two figure things out?”

Robbe could feel the blush rising on his cheeks and dipped his head down a little further. His mother let out a giggle as Robbe said, “Yeah, we did and we’re together now.” His mama grinned excitedly at him, her dimples popping. “After work on Friday, he came over and we talked about what happened.” They didn’t talk until the morning, but Robbe was never going to admit that to his mother. “He spent the weekend and we went out to dinner on Tuesday.”

His mother smiled. “That’s so sweet, I’m happy for you,” his mama said. As Robbe placed his phone on silent and deposited his phone into his pocket, his mama dumped the contents of her to-go container onto the plate in front of her. Once his mama glanced up, catching his eye, she added, “I can’t wait to meet Sander.” Robbe swallowed. “I can see that he makes you so happy and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.” 

“About that—” Robbe started. 

“What? Does he not make you happy?” his mama asked, confused. 

“No, no, he does,” Robbe said, smiling. “I promise.” His mama nodded her head. As Robbe struggled to find the words, she kept herself angled toward him as she cut up her food. “I was thinking about you meeting him.” His mama stayed quiet, keeping her eyes focused on him, but Robbe could still see the confusion and worry in her eyes… and he hadn’t even asked the question yet. “Sander and I were talking the other day and he has next Thursday evening off, so I was wondering if you might want to meet him then?” 

“I’m not sure,” his mama said, taking a bite of her food. Once she swallowed, she continued. “I know how important he is to you. I want to make sure that I meet him on a good day so I don’t scare him away.” The words made Robbe’s stomach twist—because Robbe knew that she would never scare anyone away—but he kept quiet. “So, maybe, we’ll talk about it next Wednesday? That way we can put everything together and make sure it's a good day for me.” 

Since the moment that his father had left them when he was 15, Robbe had vowed that he and his mama would be a package deal. Robbe loved his mama with everything he had and he wanted her in his life for as long as he could manage. Because his father left when things got too much, Robbe was left to help her with the pieces and took care of her on the days where she couldn’t get out of bed. 

And his mother knew this. 

Maybe it was why she put so much pressure on having a good day when she was meeting his boyfriends and why she was always sad when Robbe insisted on coming over on bad ones. On his mother’s bad days, Robbe felt it tenfold and took care of her because he knew that was what she needed. Sometimes, she welcomed his help, knowing that she needed to be taken care of occasionally. Other days, she despised it and it made her feel like a burden. 

At the end of the day, Robbe loved his mama with every fiber of his being and he would always take care of her. His mama loved him just as much—if not more. Since the months she spent in the hospital, Robbe wanted to do anything he could to help her feel better. He knew that he could never completely help her the way that she needed—he wasn’t her doctor nor was he studying to become one—but he wanted to help with the little things, such as washing the dishes or helping with dinner. 

And, if she insisted, he would wait so she could meet Sander on a good day, knowing that it would help relieve her anxiety. 

It was why, instead of arguing, Robbe reached over to take her hand. She gripped his hand back, shaking slightly, and Robbe pretended not to notice. Running his thumb along the knuckles of her hand, Robbe said, “We can play it by ear. I just wanted to ask you before I asked him.” Smiling, Robbe added, “I just really want him to meet my mama.” 

“I really want to meet him, too,” his mama said, sounding calmer. “Maybe we can talk on Tuesday and set it up.” Robbe nodded, grinning over at her. Before Robbe turned back to his food, she added, “But, if I’m feeling bad on Thursday, we can reschedule to the following week.” 

“Alright, Mama,” Robbe said. “Whether it’s next Thursday or the one after, it sounds wonderful and I know Sander will be excited to meet you.” 

His mama smiled, turning to her food. Letting out a laugh, she pushed herself to her feet and moved to the microwave as she took her container with her. Giggling, she said, “We talked so long that our food is getting cold. Do you want me to heat yours up, sweetheart?” Robbe shook his head and his mama smiled at him before turning back to the microwave.

* * *

**Vrijdag 18:39**

* * *

No matter how much Robbe asked, Sander remained tight-lipped about where they were going. 

During their phone call after Robbe got home from his mama’s, he pestered Sander into giving him information but the only response he got was a teasing smirk and a, “Do you not know the definition of a ‘surprise,’ Robin?” Throughout the rest of the call, Sander had teased him about what they were going to do but gave no real details or explanation. The teasing had only increased the nervous and exhilarating buzz that was present beneath his skin.

Not knowing where they were going frustrated Robbe to no end. 

However, at the same time, he was also eagerly anticipating whatever it was that Sander planned for their weekend getaway. Throughout his Friday afternoon stream—moved up to accommodate their trip—he was frequently phasing out of the match and getting killed when he shouldn’t have. About halfway into the second hour of the stream, his chat had a frightening realization and started screaming, or posting in all caps, “OH MY GOD, HE’S GOT A NEW BOYFRIEND,” which simply led to Robbe blushing profusely. 

Once he ended his stream, right at 17:00, Robbe made one last check that he packed everything that Sander had told him to bring as well as other necessities. Swimsuit, shorts, shirts, underwear, phone charger, shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrush… Robbe had packed everything. Now, all he had to do was wait for Sander to arrive at the flatshare to pick him up. As Robbe paced around his room for the fourth time, his phone dinged, announcing Sander’s arrival. 

Sander:  _ I’m downstairs ;) _

Throwing his bag over his shoulder, Robbe exited his bedroom and stepped into the hallway. Making sure to grab his phone and keys, he shouted goodbye into the nearly-empty apartment and practically flew toward the elevator. Outside the building, Sander was leaning against the passenger side door and grinned flirtatiously at him as Robbe approached.

“Where are we going?” Robbe asked, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer. 

Sander leaned down to kiss him and Robbe eagerly stood on his toes to meet him. Sander’s arms wrapped low on Robbe’s waist, pulling them flushed together. Robbe wrapped his arms around Sander’s neck, tugging him closer. Sander let out a low noise before pulling back. “Come on,” he said. Sander stood from against the door, taking Robbe with him, and opened the door with one hand. “We better get going.”

Robbe raised an eyebrow. Sander’s hand on his waist guided him toward the door. “But where are we going?”

A teasing smile spread across Sander’s face. “Get in the car and you’ll see.” 

“Sanderrrrrrr.” 

Once Robbe got in the passenger side, tossing his bag in the back seat, Sander closed the door behind him and moved to the driver’s side. Before they drove off, Sander started the David Bowie playlist. While Robbe wasn’t surprised, he also recognized the playlist immediately. Whenever the two of them were together, the playlist was always playing. Sander turned up the volume, sending him a grin, as Robbe simply rolled his eyes. Before driving away, Sander leaned over to press one final kiss against his lips. 

Throughout the drive, Sander held Robbe’s hand and quizzed him on the songs that came through the speakers. With each correct answer, Sander would beam over at him and squeeze his hand. Whenever he was struggling, Sander would give him hints and tease him the entire time. If he got a question wrong, Sander would tell him and remark that he needed to “study up” for his exam. 

After an hour of listening to David Bowie, Sander exited the highway. Still gripping Robbe’s hand, he navigated down long roads without pausing. Even though he could sense they were getting close now, Robbe still did not have a clue where Sander was taking him. As Sander guided them with expert ease, Robbe stared out the window, his eyes finding the large trees that stretched to the sky.

Unexpectedly, Sander slowed down and the blinker of the car flipped on. After a few minutes of wandering down a dark, narrow road, they emerged into a clearing with a cabin perched in the middle of it. 

The cabin was beautiful with a teal door that contrasted beautifully with the dark wood siding. The wall in front of them had large windows that peered into the living room and part of a beautiful kitchen. As Sander drove up to the cabin, Robbe could see a large backyard with a patio and possibly a pool behind the house. Once the car pulled to a stop, Robbe turned to Sander, who was staring at him nervously. 

“Do you like it?” Sander asked. 

“I do,” Robbe said. “But how much did this cost?”

“Didn’t cost anything.”

“Sander—”

“It didn’t cost me anything,” Sander said. He sat up in his seat and cupped Robbe’s cheek, swiping his thumb along his cheekbone and connecting the freckles. Without really thinking about it, Robbe leaned into his touch as Sander watched him with soft green eyes. “It’s Emilie’s cabin. When I mentioned getting out of town to surprise you, she offered the cabin. Normally, they come every weekend. I’ve been invited a few times. Alicia has a test on Monday so they aren’t coming this weekend.” 

“Really?” Robbe asked. 

“Really.” 

Sander leaned forward, connecting their lips. At first, the kiss was gentle and chaste; but the realization of them being alone without having to worry about roommates or streams was enough to break the proverbial dam of emotions. They hadn’t stepped out of the car, but their kiss became deeper, needier, and borderline desperate. 

Robbe tugged at the fabric of Sander’s work shirt, trying to pull him closer, but the hindrance of the console between them stopped Sander from being able to do so. One of Sander’s hands fisted at the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling enough to be pleasurable. His other hand dropped to Robbe’s waist, pulling his hips flush against the center, before slipping his hand beneath his shirt. Robbe gasped, trying to pull him closer, but to no avail. The console was still lodged between them. 

Sander let out a sigh, breaking the kiss. “Come on,” he said, turning the car off. Reluctantly, he untangled his hand from Robbe’s hair and reached in the backseat to grab the bags. “Let’s go inside.” Robbe nodded. Before he could manage to snag his bag, Sander was taking it out of his reach and stepping out of the car. Robbe stared at him in disbelief before climbing out of the car.

As Robbe stared up at the cabin in awe, Sander wrapped an arm around him. Robbe turned toward him, snaking his arm around his waist. “So, you didn’t spend money on this?”

“Not a dime,” Sander said matter-of-factly. Robbe let out a sigh of relief. “If you and I go out to get some food to cook later, I definitely will pay for it though. But even if it was the priciest cabin in the world, I would still do it because there is nothing in this world that is too expensive for you.”

Despite already knowing the answer, Robbe said, “At least let me pay for  _ something _ .”

“No.”

“Sander.”

“No,” Sander said matter-of-factly before pressing a featherlight kiss on his lips. Robbe whined, trying to pull him closer, but Sander simply smirked and moved to the front door. As Sander fumbled with the extra set of keys, Robbe stood back, watching him with an amused grin. After a few minutes, the teal door swung open and Sander pulled him into the safety of the cabin. 

Immediately after stepping into the living room, there were two thumps somewhere behind him. 

Robbe turned, catching sight of their bags abandoned on the floor, before Sander was claiming his lips again. Robbe wrapped his arms around Sander’s shoulders, bringing their bodies flush together. They stumbled against the wall—Sander’s hand protectively cradling the back of his head before trailing down his body. They could’ve kissed for minutes or hours or maybe even days, simply lost in the feeling of being together and alone.

After their kiss, which felt like a glimpse of forever, Sander pulled away from him. 

His green eyes were blown wide and his lips were teetering on the edge of bright red. Robbe was certain that he didn’t look much better. But right now, he didn’t care. All he wanted was Sander, kissing him again, chasing that glimpse. 

“Come on,” Sander said. He sounded as wrecked as Robbe felt, his impatience threatening to overwhelm him. Sander tugged at the hem of Robbe’s shirt, pulling him from the wall and into an unfamiliar hallway. Without question, Robbe followed his movements, walking backward with Sander guiding him. He bent down, his lips brushing against Robbe’s as he said, “I’ll give you the grand tour.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be no clips on Saturday or Sunday on my Tumblr. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has left a comment or a kudos or simply liked/reblogged one of the clips on Tumblr. All of your support means the absolute world to me and I hope to see you again for the final chapter! Have a wonderful weekend!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's the last chapter. thank you all for the ride <3

* * *

**Zaterdag 22:27**

* * *

After sleeping in too late, Sander prepared a fancy brunch and declined Robbe’s help, claiming he wanted to do something nice for him. So Robbe sat on the counter with his feet crossed beneath him as Sander made pancakes for both of them. After a few minutes of pouting, Sander gave in and spent his time between flips kissing Robbe breathless. Despite his pouting, Robbe welcomed his kisses, even if they had to deal with a few burned pancakes.

After Robbe helped with the dishes—he had beat him to clearing the dishes, but Robbe was physically incapable of saying no to him, which is why Sander helped him—Sander insisted on a small hike down a trail near the cabin. 

Armed with his camera around his neck, Sander led Robbe on a path in the forest. 

Following the irregular path through the trees, Sander would stop every few minutes to take photos of the surroundings. When Robbe stayed at his place, he had seen the photos on the wall and all the products that Sander had thrown his life into. But seeing him like this—seeing him take the photos—was captivating. Even with Robbe there, watching him intently, Sander was absorbed in the work, crouching down to get the perfect shot of every flower, tree, or far-off house that he could find. 

While still crouched down on the ground, Sander dropped the camera to analyze the shot. His eyes flickered up to Robbe, who was smiling down at him. Grinning, Sander bounced to his feet and wrapped his arms around Robbe’s shoulders. Once he was secure against Sander’s chest, he handed Robbe the camera and talked him through making the perfect shot. Sander’s breath was hot against his ear and positively distracting, but Robbe’s photos came out good—or so Sander said. 

Even though Robbe couldn’t see the perfect shot, Sander could find it without blinking. Every few minutes, he would pause and look through the pictures that he had taken with a critical eye. When he did, Robbe would look over his shoulder, watching which ones he deleted and which ones he kept. Every once in a while, he would ask Robbe for his opinion. 

On their last stop, Sander asked him for his opinion, but Robbe didn’t hear him, simply taking in the path around him. When Robbe heard clicking noises, he glanced up to see Sander had been taking photos of him. His cheeks flushed red and he tried to partially wrestle the camera away from him. Somehow, they ended up toppling on the trail with Sander half-trapping Robbe’s body and descending into laughter.

“Is the camera okay?” Robbe asked, feeling the giggles subside. 

Without rolling completely off Robbe, Sander checked the camera in his hands. After a few minutes, he announced, “The camera is okay. No scratches or breaks or anything.” 

Robbe breathed in relief, tugging on the strap of the camera, which was back around Sander’s neck. For a second, Sander merely glanced up in confusion, but another insistent tug at the strap caused the realization to form in his eyes. Sander moved back to Robbe, hovering over his body and pinning it to the ground, before dragging their lips together again. Sander sank down, fully pressing his weight against him, with the camera on the floor beside him. Robbe wrapped his arm around his neck, tugging him as close as he could go until Sander abruptly pulled away. 

There was a worried and sad look in his eyes, but it flickered off like a switch. The look disappeared so quickly that Robbe worried he had imagined it. 

“Come on,” Sander said. He pushed himself to his knees before standing up completely. He towered over Robbe, who was still flat on his back. Sander reached out and grabbed his hands. “Let’s get back to the cabin. It’s hot, we can go swimming.” Robbe nodded, taking his hands and feeling himself be pulled up from the ground. 

On the way back to the cabin, Sander was quieter. He fiddled with the camera in his hands and constantly stayed one step ahead. Robbe watched him carefully, reaching out to rub his arm. Sander would raise his head and smile at Robbe flirtatiously andkiss him while they walked, but Robbe could tell that there was something lingering in his mind. 

Once they were at the cabin, they quickly changed into their swimsuits before climbing into the pool. The water was freezing cold, but they quickly warmed up by swimming around the pool. Sander challenged him to a game of “Who can hold their breath the longest?” and kissed him beneath the water like some Norwegian teen drama. Neither of hem could help pushing themselves to the surface to continue their kiss, so the bet ended with a draw.

Sander cornered Robbe against the side of the pool covered by the shade of a nearby tree. Their skin was cold to the touch, but Robbe could feel the heat pooling in his stomach. He tried to pull Sander closer and tried to find purchase against the side, while Sander crowded him against it and kissed him deeper. All too quickly, Robbe’s foot slid, propelling him a little deeper into the water. Their kiss broke and Robbe managed to save himself from falling beneath the surface, chuckling in the space between them.

“Sorry,” Robbe said. Sander was looking at him with worried eyes. “My foot slipped.” 

Sander nodded and Robbe leaned up to kiss him again. But, before their lips could connect, Sander pulled back and swam away. “Come on,” he said, moving across the pool at a gentle pace. “Let’s go inside.”

Robbe blinked, still gripping the side of the pool. “What for?” 

Sander grinned cheekily, but something felt different. “We’ve got to eat dinner,” Sander said. “Come on.” 

“Will you let me help?” Robbe asked. 

Sander’s smile grew. “No.” 

“Ugh.” 

Even as Robbe swam to the ladder, he could see that something was wrong with Sander. He wasn’t quite sure how he could tell, but it struck a chord deep in his stomach. Sander’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as much as it normally did. And it had been the second time today that Sander had pulled away from Robbe in the middle of kissing. 

After showering, they got to work on dinner and Robbe managed to convince Sander to let him help a little bit. Once the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, ushering in the stars and the beautiful night sky, Sander headed outside and expertly started a fire at the fire pit. From the bedroom, Robbe grabbed a blanket and two pillows before following Sander outside. 

After spotting Robbe with the blanket and pillows, Sander’s face split into a knowing grin. He helped Robbe spread out the blanket and pinned the corners with the chairs that normally encircled the fire pit. Robbe placed the pillows on one edge of the blanket. Once Robbe settled down, Sander laid down beside him, placing his ear above Robbe’s heart and looking up at the sky. 

After a few minutes of silence, Robbe ran his hands through Sander’s hair, watching as his green eyes fluttered shut. Robbe knew that he wasn’t going to sleep. Even with his eyes closed, Sander still looked frighteningly awake. “Are you okay?” he asked. Sander opened his eyes, turning to look up at him. “There’s something going on in that head of yours. I can tell.” 

Sander’s lips upturned slightly. “Is there?”

“Yeah,” Robbe said. 

“I’ve just been thinking…” Sander trailed off. He sat up slowly and Robbe’s hand slid down to his hip. He left his hand there, trying to provide Sander some comfort. Sander pinched his eyes shut as he sat there. “I’ve just been thinking about how you might leave me.”

At his words, Robbe sat up. “Sander,” he said. “I’m not going to leave you.”

Sander glanced at him. His green eyes were barely glossed over, looking a little broken, and Robbe felt his heart squeeze fleetingly in his chest. Keeping their eyes locked together, Sander whispered, “You don’t know…” He paused, glancing over to the fire. “If you knew, you would think of me differently. It would change things between us.” Sander raised his eyes, green connecting with brown, as he confessed, “I don’t want things between us to change.”

Robbe straightened up, looking into his eyes as he said, “Things aren’t going to change between us, Sander.” 

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know that nothing you say would make me feel differently about you,” Robbe said. Sander stared at him with wide but slightly skeptical eyes. “If you want to tell me, you can. But if you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. You look like you have something weighing on your mind. I don’t want you to tell me because you feel like you have to.” 

“I want to tell you,” Sander said. “But… just promise that it won’t change what you think of me.” 

Robbe pressed their lips together. The kiss was brief and fleeting, barely any pressure behind it, but Sander leaned into it and breathed a little deeper. Once they separated, Sander’s breath ghosting over Robbe’s face and their foreheads pressed together, Robbe whispered, “I promise.” 

Sander leaned back, just enough so they could look at each other without being cross-eyed. Then, swallowing heavily, Sander said, “I’m bipolar.” 

He had heard the term once or twice before. Sometimes, Moyo would mention it in passing about his mama, but Robbe didn’t have a full understanding of what it was. Once, Moyo had mentioned his mother feeling so down that she wouldn’t leave bed for a week, which Robbe understood because of his experience with his mother. But he knew it wasn’t the entire story. “What’s that?”

“It’s a mental illness,” Sander said cautiously. He paused, staring at Robbe with a wary look in his eyes. It felt like Sander was waiting for him to say something else, or to storm off, but Robbe simply looked back at him and waited. Once Robbe didn’t ask anything, Sander nervously continued, “It’s caused by a chemical imbalance. Sometimes, I have these manic episodes where I feel euphoric and like I could take on anything I put my mind to. My thoughts race and I have trouble focusing on one thing at a time. Once, I finished all my chores and started and finished three different paintings with little sleep.” 

When Sander looked at him, Robbe nodded to let him know he was listening.

“But I also have the opposite. In depressive episodes, I don’t want to do anything and my thoughts become overwhelming. Sometimes, I feel like I’m drowning in them. It’s hard for me to pick up a pencil to draw and I lay in bed all day. Sometimes, my dad would stay in the room until I finished eating because I didn’t have the energy to eat. Other times, I can’t stop eating,” Sander said. Pausing, he let out a heavy sigh, turning to the fire. “I wanted you to know because you deserve to know and I didn’t want you to be scared—”

“Sander,” Robbe said. Sander glanced at him, at his hand on his knee. “Thank you for telling me.” 

Sander nodded, his eyes glazing over as he turned back to the fire. “I know that you didn’t sign up for all this,” he said. Robbe’s eyebrows furrowed and the confusion washed over him in waves. “If you don’t want to deal with me being bipolar, I understand. You didn’t sign up for—”

“Hey,” Robbe said, interrupting him. Sander turned to him. Reaching out, Robbe took his hand, lacing their fingers together. Sander’s green eyes focused on their joined hands. Letting out a breath, Robbe said, “Sander, look at me.” 

There was a moment of pause. Sander kept his eyes focused on their joined hands, his thumb running across Robbe’s knuckles. After he swallowed, Sander raised his head and looked back to Robbe, who was still holding his hand. To Robbe, it felt like that night in the hallway of the flatshare with Sander confessing to him that he wanted Robbe. But it also felt different—like Sander was expecting him to say something else. 

Once their eyes locked together, Robbe gripped his hand tighter and said, “I want you, Sander. All of you.” There was a hint of disbelief in his eyes, but Robbe could see the hope residing there too. He could see how much Sander wanted to believe Robbe’s words. Leaning close, not caring about going cross-eyed, Robbe continued, “I signed up for you, Sander. Being bipolar is only a part of you and I signed up for all of you.” 

Sander let out a breath. “I’m not an easy person to be with, Robbe.” 

“No one is,” Robbe said. “My mom has depression. Sometimes, she goes through periods where she doesn’t want to eat or get out of bed. It’s not the same thing, I know, but I don’t love her any less because of her mental illness.” Tears welled up in Sander’s eyes, one stray tear falling down his cheek, and Robbe could feel a few forming in his own eyes. “When she gets down and it’s so hard to think far ahead, we try to take it minute by minute. We always say what we want to do in the next minute, like eating or getting out of bed. We can do that too… if you want.” 

Sander nodded. “That sounds nice,” he said. “Can you come here in the next minute?”

Without hesitation, Robbe climbed in his lap and wrapped his legs around Sander’s waist. Robbe could feel his arms wrap around him tightly, rubbing his back in large circles. As soon as Robbe’s arms were around his neck, Sander buried his face into Robbe’s shoulder. Robbe held him tightly, feeling Sander relax completely in his arms. Sander said something against the fabric of his shirt, but Robbe couldn’t make out the whisper over the loud cackle of the fire. 

Running his hands through Sander’s hair, Robbe confessed, “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

* * *

**Zondag 13:26**

* * *

It was the end of their trip, but Robbe didn’t want to leave the cabin or head home. Even though Robbe had been the one to insist on getting home to stream, the actual realization that they would have to leave the cabin to do so made him sad. There was a part of him that wanted to stay all afternoon in bed and he knew Sander would be willing to oblige him with ease. 

After staying beneath the stars until after 2:00, until their fire dwindled to wilting ash, they laid in the guest bedroom together and wrapped in each other. As they laid there, Robbe asked Sander how he felt during his episodes, what Robbe could do to help him, and their conversation ended up spiraling into stories. Sander told him about how he stole a kitten once, how Sander created one of his favorite personal paintings, how he repainted one of his bedroom walls with spray paint at the age of sixteen. 

When Sander got too sleepy, one eye shut more than the other, he asked Robbe about stories of his teenage years. So, as he raked a hand through Sander’s platinum blond hair, he recounted about his mother’s Valentine’s Day tradition, involving action movies and family. Sander had laughed as Robbe regaled the tale of how he and Zoë were scarred for life, finding Milan in the living room with a one-night stand. 

As Robbe told the story of how he broke his arm because one of their dumb vlogs, Sander fell asleep against Robbe’s chest. He was clutching tightly at Robbe’s shirt and his cheek was squished against his shoulder. Once Sander had fallen asleep, Robbe followed him into sleep soon after. 

When Robbe came to, Sander was still fast asleep in his arms. They hadn’t moved much. Robbe was still propped up against their pillows with his legs on either side of Sander’s waist. Sander was still resting with his ear against Robbe’s heart and had him in an iron grip. Robbe didn’t mind being wrapped in Sander’s sleep-infused grip and might’ve gone back to sleep. But Robbe’s growing need to use the restroom made him wake Sander up enough to slip out of his grip. 

The last few hours at the cabin were peaceful. 

Once they officially climbed out of bed for the morning, they washed the sheets and the grass-covered blanket from last night. When they made breakfast, Sander relented and allowed Robbe to whisk the eggs. When Robbe tried to help more, Sander had taken the bowl of whisked eggs from him and batted away his hand every time he tried. After they finished eating, Sander cradled Robbe against his chest on the couch with Elite playing on the television. 

As they laid on the couch, wrapped up in each other and love-drunk, time seemed to slip by and Robbe gripped Sander’s sides tighter. One episode turned to two and somehow, two turned into three or four because Robbe ended up falling asleep in Sander’s arms. When the sheets had finished drying, they remade the bed and Robbe folded the clean blanket up, placing it back in the cabinet where he found it. Once they had collected their bags, placing their leftover clothes in them, they were ready to leave the cabin behind. 

But before they have even left the driveway, Robbe could sense the hesitation as Sander moved to put the car in reverse. Sander swallowed, glancing at the cabin before turning his gaze to Robbe in the passenger seat, “Are you sure?”

For a heartbeat, Robbe thought Sander was talking about leaving the cabin—and, in all honesty, Robbe wanted nothing more than to cuddle Sander without worrying about streams or, worse,  _ roommates _ . But he realized that Sander meant him—being together with him, loving him. Smiling gently, Robbe leaned over to kiss him. Sander kissed back gently, like he was something precious and delicate but also sturdy and strong, and Robbe leaned further into his kiss. 

Once they separated, Robbe breathed out. “Yes.” 

Sander smiled, soft and insecure, before he was kissing Robbe again. This kiss was a little needier, with Sander opening his mouth against Robbe’s and tugging on the strands of his hair. When their lips separated again, his mouth dropped open, but whatever he was going to say didn’t come out. Instead, he closed his mouth, grinning, and placed a longer kiss against his lips. “Come on,” Sander said, kissing Robbe’s cheek and patting his knee. “We better get going before your fans decide to yell at me for keeping you away all weekend.”

Robbe rolled his eyes. “They can wait five extra minutes.” 

Sander laughed, shaking his head. He turned toward the wheel as Robbe pouted. As Sander guided the car away from the cabin, pulling onto the street with ease, Robbe plugged his phone in and played the beginner David Bowie playlist through the speakers. As  _ Heroes _ played, Sander reached over to take his hand. Robbe gripped onto him like a lifeline and pulled their joined hands into his lap again. 

The drive back was as peaceful as the stay in the cabin. As a kid, Robbe always loved long drives—the peaceful solitude, watching the world pass through the windows. With Sander at his side, holding his hand and letting him lean against his shoulder, the peaceful feeling increased tenfold. Robbe played with Sander’s fingers and let David Bowie’s voice roll over both of them. Somehow, the hour-long drive managed to pass in what felt half of that. 

Pulling up to the flatshare, Robbe let out a sigh. Sander parked the car and placed a gentle kiss against Robbe’s forehead. His eyes fluttered closed as he leaned against Sander’s shoulders. Robbe felt the weight of Sander’s head resting on his and let out a sigh. “I almost wish we never left.” 

Sander chuckled, his breath brushing over Robbe’s forehead. “Yeah, we could’ve stayed,” he said. “But we would’ve had an early drive in the morning. Emilie’s got me working the opening shift.” Robbe smiled, tilting his head to face him. Sander raised his head, his eyes practically closed as he stared at him. “Plus, you promised a Sunday and I’m looking forward to it.” 

“We still could’ve stayed,” Robbe said. “I wouldn’t have minded a late-night drive on a highway.” 

“They’re peaceful,” Sander said. 

“Yeah, but everything is peaceful with you.” 

Robbe thought it was too cheesy, his cheeks warming up instantly, but Sander seemed to enjoy it. He chuckled and nosed Robbe’s hair. Sander’s long fingers pushed Robbe’s hand wide. He trailed Robbe’s knuckles with the pads of his fingers. When Sander trailed his hand across his palm, Robbe shivered and giggled.

“I love you.”

The confession was soft and quiet like Sander was trying it out, like it wasn’t for Robbe to hear. But his lips brushed across the top of his head. It  _ was  _ for Robbe to hear, but only for them. Without removing his head from Sander’s shoulder, Robbe tilted his head back, catching the green hue of his eyes. There was a nervous look in his eye as they darted across his face.

“I love you, too.”

Sander grinned, happy and free, before dragging their lips together. Robbe felt the shift of the car which could only mean that Sander let off the brake. Sander turned, facing Robbe fully, and making it—somewhat—easier to kiss. Every time their lips separated, even for a second, Sander would manage to mumble another “I love you” and Robbe’s “I love you, too” was lost in their kiss. So Robbe poured all of the love that he felt into their next kiss, trying to mimic the intensity of his feelings. 

Of his love. 

When they pulled back, panting against each other’s mouths, Robbe clung to the fabric of his shirt, desperate to hold onto anything he could. Robbe tilted his head back and placed a fleeting kiss against Sander’s nose and listened to the resulting melodious laugh with glee.

“Go on,” Sander said. “You have to get upstairs and get something tasty to eat before you start the stream.”

“I don’t know,” Robbe said. Sander raised a curious eyebrow as Robbe tugged him closer by his shirt. “I’ve got something tasty right here.” Even though Robbe could feel the growing flush on his face and the embarrassment forming in his stomach, the loud, surprised laugh from Sander was well worth it. 

Sander kissed him again. “Go on, before I carry you up there.”

“What? You can’t carry me all the way up there.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Sander asked, raising an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Robbe rolled his eyes, grabbing his duffel bag from the back seat. With minimal effort, he tugged it into his lap with ease. Turning back to Sander, who was watching him with a stern look, Robbe said, “I love you.”

Almost immediately, the stern look disappeared from Sander’s face and a smile grew back in its place. “I love you, too.” Robbe leaned over the console to steal one last kiss and Robbe obliged him happily. Sander tugged at the strands of his hair, pulling him closer, before letting him go. “Good luck,” he said, his lips brushing against Robbe’s. They kissed once more. “And have a good stream.”

“You’ll be watching, right?”

“Always,” Sander promised.

* * *

**Maandag 14:11**

* * *

Broerrrs + Luc

20 July, 14:11

Robbe:  _ What are you guys doing on Wednesday? _

Jens:  _ Uh, I’m working that night. _ _   
_ _ But not until like 19:00. _

Lucas:  _ I’m working that morning. _

Jens:  _ Really? _

Lucas:  _ Yeah. _

Aaron:  _ I don’t have to work. _

Moyo:  _ Me either. _

Jens:  _ Lucky you. _

Lucas:  _ Why? _

Robbe:  _ Because Sander wants to meet you guys. _ _   
_ _ And he gets off at 16:00 on Wednesday. _

Jens:  _ Wait really? _

Robbe:  _ Yeah. _ _   
_ _ Do you have a problem with it? _

Jens:  _ What? No, of course not. _ _   
_ _ I guess I just didn’t expect it to be so soon. _ _   
_ _ Especially after everything that happened. _

Robbe:  _ I know, but I want him to meet you guys. _ _   
_ _ Officially. As my boyfriend. _

Aaron:  _ Awww, Robbe has a boyfriend. _

Robbe:  _ I’ve said he’s my boyfriend multiple times. _

Lucas:  _ Yeah, he literally won’t shut up about it. _

Robbe:  _ I’m sorry. How many times do you talk about Jens? _

Lucas:  _ :) _

Aaron:  _ I know, but it’s still new and I’m allowed to be excited. _

Moyo:  _ That’s true. _ _   
_ _ We’re excited.  _ _   
_ _ And Wednesday sounds good to me. _ _   
_ _ Noor and I are going out tonight. _

Jens:  _ Have fun! _ _   
_ _ Wednesday sounds good to me too. _ _   
_ _ Am I going to like him still after everything? _

Lucas:  _ Yes. _

Jens:  _ Oh really? _

Lucas:  _ One look at how he makes Robbe happy and you’ll like him again. _

Robbe:  _ I didn’t realize you stopped. _

Lucas:  _ He didn’t. He just says that he does. _ _   
_ _ He’s gotta be all macho and protective. _

Jens:  _ You like me when I’m macho and protective. _

Aaron:  _ VDS at it again. _

Moyo:  _ You’re still in the group chat? _

Jens:  _ And? I can flirt with my boyfriend when I want to. _ _   
_ _ Even in the group chat. _

Robbe:  _ I’m screenshotting that. _

Aaron:  _ What for? _

Robbe:  _ For when we eventually add Sander to this chat. _ _   
_ _ And Jens tells me not to flirt with my boyfriend. _ _   
_ _ I have proof that I can flirt in the group chat. _

Jens:  _ Are we adding Sander to the group chat? _ _   
_ _ We haven’t even met him officially yet. _ _   
_ _ And we never added Thomas to it.  _

Robbe:  _ I know, but I have a feeling about this one. _ _   
_ _ Plus, I know you guys already like him anyways. _ _   
_ _ Especially Aaron. _

Aaron:  _ That’s true. _

Jens:  _ In love Robbe is my favorite Robbe. _

Moyo:  _ Yeah. _

Lucas:  _ Agreed. _

Robbe:  _ Thanks guys. _

* * *

**Dinsdag 19:25**

* * *

It had been on Robbe’s mind for awhile—days, weeks even. It was time for something different.

At least for Tuesday. 

Tonight, Sander was going over to Britt’s parents’ house. It had been an unexpected and last-minute invite from her parents and Sander was asked to come. Britt had messaged Robbe about it, asking if it was okay, and Robbe had said that it was. It still felt a little weird—as weird as his boyfriend pretending to be dating his ex-girlfriend could be—but that wasn’t why Robbe was upset. But, Robbe didn’t even know if ‘upset’ was the word he should be using… Disappointed? Maybe.

It wasn't about Sander going over to Britt’s. It was Sander going over to Britt’s  _ tonight _ . 

Changing up his streams had been on Robbe’s mind for a few weeks and yesterday afternoon, after playing numerous matches that were just like all the others, he finally decided that he wanted to do it. At least for one day. When Britt had asked—followed shortly by Sander’s call—he thought of pushing the change off until later but, at the same time, Robbe didn’t want to. 

Since that Friday night, Robbe had been itching to play Pokémon Sword and Shield, the newest generation in the franchise. With their buzzed and love-drunk minds, they hadn’t really gotten very far into the game. Every once in a while, they would pause to kiss and it would end up a little more handsy than originally planned. Once they managed to pull themselves away, they would barely make any progress before they would tumble back against the bed, kissing each other. 

So Robbe went out and bought a Nintendo Switch after his Monday night stream. Because Sander had a copy of Pokémon Shield—he remembered the opening title scene quite vividly—Robbe chose the opposite version before looking through to see what other games were compatible with the console. Once he got his new purchase home, he spent the majority of the evening setting it up with the help of YouTube videos. Zoë had brought him a plateful of spaghetti as he was knee-deep in cords. 

Once he woke up on Tuesday morning, Robbe put the finishing touches to make sure that everything would run smoothly—or as smoothly as it could without going live. Even though Robbe had informed them that he was going to do something different, his nerves were still running high, bouncing in his chest. For years, Fortnite had been the only thing that Robbe streamed. So the bulk of his audience would expect Fortnite from him.

Before he started the stream, his phone vibrated loudly against the desk, pulling his gaze from the computer in front of him.

Sander:  _ Have a good stream, baby. _ _   
_ _ I’m hoping to catch the end. _ _   
_ _ If not, I’ll watch it before bed. _

A flood of warmth shot through Robbe and soothed all of the erratic nerves in his chest. Unconsciously adjusting his headphones, Robbe typed out a quick message.

Robbe: _ Have a good dinner. _ _   
_ _ Text me when you get home. _

Sander:  _ I will <3 _

Once Robbe placed his phone to the side, glancing at Sander’s framed sketch, he started the stream. Even though he was still nervous, it was all for nothing. To his surprise, a majority of his regular audience were excited to see him play through Sword for the first time. On the other hand, there were still a handful of people who weren’t excited. Before they left the chat, they made passive aggressive comments about going to watch a  _ Fortnite  _ streamer, and the comments stung a little. Thankfully, the majority of his audience encouraged him and he started the game with little fuss. 

On that Friday evening with Sander, they had chosen the water-type starter, Sobbe . While Robbe thought that the anxious salamander (or chameleon?) was adorable, he ended up choosing the  Scorbunny this time around, which he named Flint. The white bunny with a bandage on his nose had interested him. Plus, if he and Sander were going to continue with Sobble, he wanted to do something different with this one. Once he hit the first route of the game, Robbe caught a  Rookidee , which he named Alloy. It was a small bird that looked angry but would eventually evolve into a Corviknight. 

When Robbe finally reached the Wild Area, the vast area between cities—and, he learned, Pokémon’s first step into an open world—Robbe paused to consider getting the online services to connect with his viewers who had Pokémon. After a few minutes, he decided to wait until later in the game before he got the online services. Plus, he wanted to look into the other games on the Switch so he could do what they were temporarily dubbing “Nintendo Tuesday.”

As Robbe prepared to enter the Opening Ceremonies for the first time, his phone vibrated against the desk, drawing his attention.  _ Rebel, Rebel  _ played again as Sander’s text message popped up on the screen. 

Sander:  _ Baby, buzz me in.  _

Pulling down his headphones, he barely could make out the buzzer in the hallway. It was still going—which meant that no one else was home. “Umm,” Robbe said, placing his controller on the desk. His character was mid-conversation with a stadium worker and his chat was moving very quickly. “Sorry, I’m going to take my five-minute break now.” 

Muting his microphone and placing his headphones on the desk, Robbe shot out of his bedroom door and hit the buzzer on the front door. It only took nearly a full minute for Sander to arrive at the front door, knocking lightly, and Robbe opened it impatiently to find him there on his doormat. Sander was dressed in a long-sleeve black button-up with a pair of skinny jeans. His cheeks were flushed, likely from the heat. 

As soon as the door opened, Sander stepped into the apartment and kissed him hurriedly. His skin was hot to the touch—and a little sweaty–but Robbe didn’t mind, bringing him closer against him. Sander wrapped his arms around Robbe’s waist before pulling back. “Hi, baby.”

“Hey,” Robbe said, beaming. 

“I’m sorry for interrupting your stream,” he said. “I just really wanted to see you.” 

“Is everything okay?” Robbe asked. 

“Yeah,” Sander said, squeezing his waist. “Everything is fine. While we were at dinner, her parents asked us if we were really dating because we never kissed in front of them. When her father tried to force us to kiss to prove that we weren’t faking it, Britt exploded. She got into a fight with her dad and I could only watch with her mom as they fought. In the end, she came out to her parents.”

Robbe felt his eyes grow wide, pulling back. “What?”

Sander nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t tell you before because she wasn’t ready yet. But when I took her to my apartment and was going to come over here, she let me know that I could tell you. She’s been in a relationship with her girlfriend for six months. Her parents were always a little overbearing and controlling in her life and tonight was the last straw. She packed a bag and she’s staying in Noor’s bedroom until she figures out what to do.”

“Wow,” Robbe said. “I’m so sorry.”

Sander shrugged with a sad look on his face. “It’s been a long time coming. Since she’s found out, she’s been a ticking time bomb with her parents. They always talked about her being with a good guy—even when she was with me, both real and fake—and she internalized all of it. Every time, she got a little closer until it was too much.”

Robbe nodded. He understood that feeling. In high school, he exploded at the Broerrrs. He had been going through so much—his mother in the hospital and his repressed feelings that he refused to acknowledge to even himself—until one day it was too much. Thankfully, he had Milan and Zoë to help him. The Broerrrs forgave his explosion and changed when they realized how much Robbe was hurt by their words. Avoiding Sander’s gaze, he mumbled, “I know what it’s like… to explode.” 

Sander nodded, pressing a kiss to Robbe’s forehead. For a second, they simply rocked in the silence of the foyer. Soon, Sander ducked his head down to press a kiss against Robbe’s lips and he arched against Sander’s chest. Robbe stood on his toes, wrapping his arms around Sander’s neck, and kissed him back. Sander wrapped his arms tighter around Robbe, bringing him flush against his chest, as he dug his fingers into his hair. 

Pulling back, Sander kissed his nose. “You better get back to your stream. I just really wanted to see you.”

“They can wait a little more,” Robbe said. 

“Yeah, but you don’t want to keep them waiting forever,” Sander said grinning. Placing one more kiss on his lips, he moved back to the front door. As Sander reached to open the door and step outside, Robbe tugged him back against him and Sander looked at him confused. “What is it?” 

“You don’t have to leave,” Robbe said. Sander stared down at him with half-lidded eyes and Robbe swallowed his nerves. “You can stay here and come on the stream with me—or hang out in my room if you feel more comfortable with that.” A small smile grew on Sander’s face. “Besides, I need your expertise about my stream and I’d love to have you with me.”

“Didn’t you say last week that I would be distracting?”

“Maybe,” Robbe said, tilting his head back. Sander stared at him with a sly smile on his face. “Maybe I also changed my mind about you being distracting. But you have to promise to be on your best behavior.” 

“Okay,” Sander said, gripping his hips tightly. “I’d love to join. But I don’t know how much help I’m going to be with Fortnite and online matches. All I know is what you’ve told me or I’ve heard on your streams.” 

Robbe smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips before moving to the kitchen. “I’ll be back soon. I still need to grab a glass of water or I’m not going to be able to make it the rest of the stream without another break.” 

When Robbe returned to his bedroom, Sander had kicked off his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing the black shirt he had beneath it. His bag had been discarded at the foot of the bed. There was an emotional look on his face as he turned to Robbe who stepped into the doorway. 

“You’re playing Pokémon?” Robbe nodded, relishing when Sander closed the distance and pressed another kiss to his lips. Even with a full glass of water in his hands, Robbe wasted no time in wrapping his free arm around his shoulders and kissing him back. When they separated, Sander grinned. “Lucky for you, Mr. IJzermans, I’m quite the Pokémon expert.”

Robbe smiled, stealing another fleeting kiss. “Lucky me.” 

* * *

**Woensdag 12:39**

* * *

Robbe:  _ Hey Mama. _ _   
_ _ How are you feeling today? _

Mama:  _ I’m feeling better. _ _   
_ _ Work has slowed down a little so that’s helped. _

Robbe:  _ I’m glad to hear that. _ _   
_ _ Are you still unsure about tomorrow? _

Mama:  _ I think that it’ll be good to have dinner with Sander tomorrow. _ _   
_ _ If I’m not feeling good in the morning, I’ll let you know. _ _   
_ _ But I think it should be okay. _

Robbe:  _ Okay :) _ _   
_ _ Zoë wanted to come with Senne. _ _   
_ _ Is that alright? _

Mama:  _ Yes, Zoë texted me earlier. _ _   
_ _ I’d love to have everyone there. _

Robbe:  _ Sorry, I didn’t realize she messaged you. _ _   
_ _ I haven’t seen her since this morning when she asked me. _

Mama:  _ It’s okay.  _ _   
_ _ She told me that Senne and Sander are roommates. _ _   
_ _ I can’t wait to meet Sander. _

Robbe:  _ I can’t wait for you to meet Sander. _ _   
_ _ He’s meeting the guys later today. _ _   
_ _ I’m going to talk to him about tomorrow then. _ _   
_ _ But if you’re not feeling well tomorrow, we can push it back. _

Mama:  _ Okay, sweetheart.  _ _   
_ _ Thank you <3 _ _   
_ _ I love you. _

Robbe:  _ I love you too, Mama. _

* * *

**Woensdag 17:36**

* * *

“Hey, Robbe!” 

It was Alicia, who was sitting on her spot behind the counter. On the other side of the counter, Sander and Britt were standing there, looking like they were about to step on a runway. As soon as the words left Alicia’s mouth, Sander was spinning toward him and pushing himself off the counter. He eagerly closed the distance to press a kiss against his lips. Even though Sander had stayed late after the stream, Robbe felt himself tipping toward Sander, gripping his shirt and unable to resist stealing another kiss.

“Are you ready to go?” Robbe asked, wrapping his arms around Sander’s waist. 

Sander let out a sigh, resting their foreheads together. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Where are you guys going?” Britt asked. 

Sander turned to her, his arms still securely wrapped around Robbe. There was a soft look on her face—one Robbe had only seen directed toward Jana, back before she found out that Jens and Jana were sneaking around behind her back—and the look made Robbe smile at her, which she returned. “We’re meeting the rest of the boys at a bar,” Sander said. 

“Oh,” Alicia said, leaning across the counter. Britt eyed her with a soft smile on her face. “Is that why you’ve been anxious all afternoon?” The front door opened, letting in a gush of warm summer breeze. “Because I swear that you’ve been jumpy all day.”

“Who’s been all jumpy?” a woman’s voice asked. Robbe pivoted, expecting to find Emilie, but instead, he found a taller woman with dusty brown hair. It was pulled back in a braid over her shoulder. As she passed Robbe and Sander, she reached out to ruffle Sander’s hair and he shoved her hand away. The action caused Sander to coil further around Robbe, which he didn’t mind at all. “Ah, I see. It’s your turn.”

“Lilly,” Sander said, practically whining. 

Lilly chuckled, her grey eyes spotting Robbe in Sander’s arms. “Oh, you must be Robbe, I’ve heard a lot about you,” Lilly said, smiling at him. He spotted Sander’s cheeks flush bright red before he buried his face against Robbe’s neck. She held out her hand and Robbe shook it. “I’m Lilly. I’m Alicia’s step-mother and I own a bar that Sander here—” She lightly shoved Sander’s shoulder and he responded by shoving her. “—frequents.” 

“What are you even doing here?” Sander asked. 

“Yeah,” Alicia spoke up, still behind the counter. “What are you doing here? I thought that we weren’t meeting for dinner until tomorrow.” 

“Actually, I’m here because of Britt,” Lilly said, making a beeline for the girl still at the counter. Britt glanced up, questionably, before turning to her. “Emilie told me what happened with your parents and that you’re in need of a job. Am I right? 

As Sander tugged on Robbe’s waist, tilting his head in the direction of the front door, Britt nodded. “Yeah,” Britt said. Alicia reached out to take her hand and Britt gripped it tightly. “I’ve been working at my father’s company, but he’s already made it clear that he doesn’t want me around right now.” 

“Well, if you wanted to apply, the bar is about to start hiring bartenders again,” Lilly said. “You’d have to work at least one late night a week, but you’re always welcome to apply.”

“Really?” Britt asked. 

“Of course,” Lilly said. “As Alicia’s girlfriend, you’re practically family.” 

All too quickly, Britt’s face twisted, looking seemingly overwhelmed. But Robbe wasn’t sure. Even though he had known Britt for years, he had never seen that look on her face. Lilly stepped forward, wrapping Britt into a bone-crushing hug, and Britt sunk into it. Without releasing Alicia’s hand, Britt hugged Lilly tightly and pulled her close. 

Alicia glanced over at the two of them and nodded to Sander. Robbe felt Sander nod against his cheek before he was dragging him out the tattoo parlor. Once they stepped outside, Sander grabbed Robbe’s hand and held onto him tightly. Robbe glanced at the parlor. “Is Britt going to be okay?”

Sander nodded. “She will be.” Robbe nodded, tugging Sander in the direction of the bar where they were meeting the rest of the Broerrrs. Sander followed him without question, keeping pace beside him and clinging tightly to his hand. 

As Robbe walked down the street, holding his hand in his own, there was the nagging question in the back of his mind. It was the question about  _ tomorrow _ with his mama, Zoë, and Senne. He found himself nervous as he tried to ask the simple question. What if he had waited too long and Sander had plans? What if Sander didn’t want to meet his mama yet? Glancing at Sander, he bit down on his lip and forced the words out. “Can I ask you something?” 

Sander glanced over at him. “Anything.”

Swallowing, Robbe asked, “What are you doing tomorrow?” 

Immediately, a confused look overtook Sander’s face before it twisted into a thoughtful one. The two of them continued walking, their joined hands swinging with every step, as Sander thought about it. “Uh, I work until about 18:00, but I’m off for the rest of the night. I don’t have any plans yet,” Sander said. His eyes focused back on Robbe. “Why?”

His stomach bunched up with nerves. “Well, I know that it’s last minute but tomorrow is Thursday…” he started before trailing off. Without meaning to, he clung a little tighter to Sander’s hand, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Sander squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I’m going to dinner with my mama and I was wondering if you—” Robbe glanced up at Sander, connecting their eyes again. “—wanted to come with me?” Sander’s eyes widened. “Zoë wanted to come with and she was going to bring Senne, so he’ll be there as well.” 

“And your mama wants me to be there?” Sander asked. 

“Yes, she does,” Robbe said. Sander squeezed his hand. “She’s been worried about meeting you on a bad day because she doesn’t want to scare you away. It’s why I didn’t ask you about it until today. But it is still possible that she wakes up tomorrow or goes to work and decides that it isn’t a good day. I just really want you to meet her is all and I know that you’ll love her—even if it is a bad day.” 

“Robbe.” Sander’s voice was gentle and comforting and stopped his spinning mind in its tracks. Robbe glanced up at his worried green eyes and Sander gave his hand a squeeze. “Whether it’s tomorrow or next Thursday or the one after, I would love to meet your mama. But I only want to meet her when we are all comfortable. If she wants to wait until next week, we can wait.” He leaned towards Robbe. “We’ve got all the time in the world. I don’t want to rush it.”

Robbe smiled, tilting his head up so their lips slotted together.

It was quick and fleeting because Sander was pulling away. As Robbe stared at him, he let out a dramatic sigh and threw his head backward. “However, the same cannot be said for my father and step-mother. Both of them have been on my ass for three weeks now about meeting you.” Robbe laughed. “And they made it abundantly clear that you are invited to our family dinner on Saturday night.”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes, you are,” Sander said. “They keep saying that I’m hiding you away from them, which is only about half true.” Robbe snorted, hiding his face into Sander’s shoulder. “So, what do you say, Mr. IJzermans? Would you like to come and meet my parents on Saturday evening?” Robbe beamed up at him as Sander added, “And Amber. But you already know Amber.”

“I’d love to,” Robbe said, squeezing his hand. “I can’t wait to meet them.” 

“I can’t wait to meet your mama,” Sander said. 

“She’s going to love you.”

Sander unlaced their fingers to wrap an arm around his shoulders. It was hot and the sun was beating down on them, but Robbe didn’t care. He leaned into Sander’s embrace without hesitation and Robbe wrapped an arm around his waist. Clinging tightly to him, Sander whispered in his ear, “They’re going to love you, too.” The thought made Robbe’s heart swell as they got closer to the bar. 

* * *

**Woensdag 17:49**

* * *

“Oh,” Sander said, a grin on his face as he recognized the place. “We’re meeting here.”

Robbe grinned over at him. “I want you to know that it wasn’t my idea.” 

It was the bar where they had all met up when Jana was in town. It was the bar where Senne and Zoë had told their friends that they were back together. It was the bar where Sander had shown up after their therapy session and where Robbe decided that he wanted to know him a little better. It was the bar where Robbe found an excuse to talk with Sander outside. 

Through the large glass windows, Robbe could see that all of his friends were there. Jens and Lucas had claimed the back table. Jens had one arm around Lucas, who was leaning against his chest. Aaron was probably telling some outrageous story, because he was moving his arms around erratically while Moyo was laughing beside him in glee. As Robbe opened the door to the bar, Sander trailing behind him, his friends looked up as the bell dinged. 

“There you are!” Jens said. As Robbe guided them over to the table, he felt Sander squeeze his hand nervously. Robbe mimicked the gesture as the distance between them and his friends closed. Jens nodded to Sander before grinning at Robbe. “We were starting to worry that you had gotten lost!” 

“And you were early today,” Robbe said. Jens shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m surprised. Especially when you and Lucas are together, you always end up being ten minutes late.” 

Dropping his hand, Sander nodded at Jens before grabbing the chair where Jens’s feet were propped up. With a confused look on his face, Jens lowered his feet and Sander pulled out the chair. Robbe grabbed the chair next to Aaron, intending to sit in it, but Sander reached out, snagging his wrist. As Robbe’s look of confusion, Sander tugged on his wrist until he practically stumbled into the chair. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes—or kiss the breath out of him—Robbe climbed into the chair. 

High-fiving Aaron, Sander climbed into the chair beside him. 

As soon as Sander was settled down in his chair, Jens wasted no time in beginning to ask questions. Crossing his arms at the edge of the table, he leaned toward him and Lucas, abandoned, leaned against his side. “So, Sander,” Jens said. Sander raised an eyebrow as he waited patiently for Jens’s first question. “What do you do for a living?”

“Oh,” Sander said, looking shocked. “Did Robbe not tell you?”

Jens shrugged and Robbe mimicked his motion. “No, I don’t think we ever talked about it,” Robbe admitted.

Sander chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m a tattoo artist.”

“Shit, really?” Lucas asked, sounding interested. 

“Yeah,” Sander said, beaming. “I’ve been working at this tattoo parlor since before I graduated from the academy.” Without even having to look at Lucas, Robbe could tell that his eyes were widening. “Once I graduated, I’ve been doing that as my main job but also accepting some commissions. Plus, I’m also a photographer.” If possible, Lucas’s eyes got wider. “Senne and Noor always joke about how I’ll be the photographer at their weddings. Same with Amber.”

Moyo chuckled. “Really? You’re that good?”

Sander shrugged and Robbe smacked him. He had seen the photos. They both knew how good a photographer Sander was. Still, he laughed as he looked at Moyo. “So they say.” Instantly, his face turned serious. “Though, I don’t know how it’ll work out with Senne… since I’m also apparently going to be the best man.” Sander nudged Robbe. “Think I can get you trained in a few years?” 

Robbe shook his head. “Probably not,” Robbe said. Sander sent him a look of disbelief. “When we were on the trail and you had me take pictures, I didn’t know what the the hell I was doing—”

“I thought they were pretty good.” 

“I still didn’t know what I was doing,” Robbe said, sending Sander a look. “Either way, you can always train Lucas—or help him, I guess.” Sander glanced over to Lucas, who had a look of bewilderment on his face for being called out. “Lucas is taking photography classes at university and I’m sure he would be happy to help out.”

“Really?” Sander asked, curious.

“Yeah,” Lucas said. He sent Robbe a look for directing the conversation toward him. “It’s just normal college classes—not like the classes at the academy or anything.” Sander chuckled. “But I’ve been trying to minor in photography. Originally, it was art but I took a photography class and fell in love. It’s been fun, though one of my professors nearly failed one of my projects.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, he said he didn’t understand what I was going for. For my final project of the semester, I had to redo it to showcase what I had learned since making it,” Lucas said. “It was stressful but I managed to pass the class. Sometimes, that’s all that matters.” 

Robbed nodded. He had been there. “I still think you deserved a better grade than the first one,” Jens said. 

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you’re my boyfriend. You always think that—”

As Jens and Lucas started bickering like an old married couple, Robbe turned to Sander. There was a playful smile on his face as he watched Jens and Lucas. As if sensing his gaze, Sander turned to him and smiled fondly at him. Reaching beneath the table, Robbe’s hand down Sander’s and he intertwined their hands again. Sander gripped it tightly, drawing patterns on the back of Robbe’s hand with his thumb. 

“So, anyway,” Lucas said, placing a hand over Jens’s mouth. Even with his hand there, Robbe could still make out Jens’s muffled speech as he tried to pry Lucas’s hand away. “I’m always down to talk about photography.” 

Sander laughed. “Good to know.” Using his free hand, Sander reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. As he typed in the passcode, he said, “When I’m stuck, I always tend to go out and photograph everything. Usually, seeing the world helps me with finding inspiration.” He pulled up a photo before handing the photo to Robbe. “And I actually ended up catching you guys in action one time…” he trailed off, scratching nervously behind his ear. 

Robbe turned to the photo and his eyes went wide. It was Jens. In the photo, he was in the air, in the midst of a trick. Both him and his skateboard were off the ground. Robbe’s mind knew that he was in the middle of a trick. Yet the photo itself wasn’t blurry or showed any movement. It was like Jens had frozen in midair with no one around him. 

“Wow,” Robbe said. Jens leaned over to see and promptly took the phone away from him. As soon as Jens straightened up, Lucas was looking over to see. Robbe turned to Sander, who still looked nervous. “That’s the best that Jens has ever looked in a photo. You must really be good.” 

Jens kicked him beneath the table. 

“Wow,” Lucas said. “This is amazing.”

Sander’s cheeks dusted a light shade of pink. “Thanks.”

“Of course it looks amazing,” Jens said. Robbe chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m in the photo.” 

Lucas ignored him, moving to hand the phone back to Sander. When Moyo snatched the device from his hand, Lucas let them look. “What lens did you use to take it?” 

As soon as Sander and Lucas launched into a complex conversation about camera lenses, Robbe instantly got lost. He tried to keep up, but it was difficult to do so. Once Jens leaned over to him, tapping his shoulder, all of the concentration that he managed to gather fell apart onto the floor. Robbe turned toward Jens, who whispered, “It looks like our boyfriends might spend time together taking pictures.” 

Turning to Sander, Robbe stared at him. Even though he had been nervous the entire walk over, he didn’t seem as nervous anymore. His shoulders had long since relaxed and he was talking freely to Lucas, uncaring that only he and Lucas could understand the conversation. Still, Sander held his hand beneath the table and Robbe was becoming more and more insistent to hold onto it. Robbe turned back to Jens, smiling. “I’d be okay with that. You?”

For a second, Jens tried to keep his face neutral—to act like he wasn’t one way or the other, but it didn’t last long. His smile broke through the facade quickly and he didn’t try to hide it. “Yeah, I’d like that too.” 

* * *

**Donderdag 18:28**

* * *

When his mama arrived home to find Zoë and Robbe already working in the kitchen, she was beside herself, with her anxiety rolling off of her in waves. Her boss, Margot, had held her back at work and she had texted Robbe frantically to let him know that she was running late. Even though Robbe had a spare key and assured his mama that everything would be alright, she was still nervous. Once she arrived at the apartment, she tossed her purse into one of the living room chairs and started to set the table. 

But Zoë was having none of it. 

Before his mama could put down the empty vase that once held Senne’s daffodils, Zoë was taking the vase from her hands. Placing it on the kitchen counter, Zoë shuffled his mama out of the kitchen and toward her bedroom to take a shower. As Robbe stirred the sauce in the pan he held, he could hear Zoë assuring his mama that they were fine and if she needed one, she should take a shower. When Zoë returned to the kitchen, Robbe could barely hear the sound of running water down the hall. 

“How is she?” Robbe asked. 

“She’s pretty nervous,” Zoë said. “But the shower should help her relax a little.” Robbe nodded and gave her the spoon when she asked for it. Before she tasted the sauce, she turned to Robbe. “If you want to set the table before she gets out, I can handle the food for a few minutes.”

As Zoë returned to cooking, Robbe reached into the cabinets and grabbed out five plates. Placing them on the counter, he moved the rest of his mother’s table decorations to the counter beside the empty vase. Robbe set the plates down at each of the chairs with the fifth plate at one of the ends. Once he grabbed one of the folded chairs from the hall closet, the table was set. 

Once his mother exited the bathroom with a fresh set of clothes and mostly dry hair, she looked more relaxed. Like Robbe and Zoë, she wore a pair of jeans that looked practically new and a nice blouse. When she noticed the table was set, she pivoted to the two of them at the stove and said, “You could’ve at least left me  _ one  _ thing to do before they get here.” 

Robbe chuckled, shaking his head, as Zoë announced, “It’s alright, Mama. Dinner's nearly ready.” As if summoned, the buzzer rang through the apartment. His mama shuffled out of the room to buzz them in. Zoë nudged Robbe with her hip before she moved to place the food on the counter. As Robbe pulled the bread from the oven, he heard the front door open and Senne’s voice filtered in from the living room. 

“Good evening, Marie,” Senne said.

“It’s good to see you, Senne,” his mama said. There was a brief pause and a hush of mumbled voices as Zoë scurried out to greet them as well. Through the cut out in the kitchen, Robbe could see that Senne had a bottle in his hands. “You didn’t have to bring anything!” 

“I know,” Senne said, grinning sheepishly. “My parents taught me to never show up empty-handed and it’s non-alcoholic.” Robbe thought the last part was directed to Zoë. 

As Robbe placed the bread into a basket, the deep drum of Sander’s voice caught his attention. “We also brought you these,” he said. Robbe bent down a little and his eyes caught sight of Sander. Even though he had gotten off work less than thirty minutes ago, he was dressed in a black button up shirt and a pair of blue jeans. In his hand, he held a bundle of flowers—bright yellow daffodils with orange tulips—which he handed over to Robbe’s mother. “Senne and I wanted to bring you some more since your last bouquet is probably wilted by now.”

His mother laughed. A slight nervous tilt trembled her voice. “Yes, they are,” she said. She took the bouquet of flowers and beamed up to Sander, who was similarly nervous. “Thank you so much! These are beautiful flowers.” 

“I’m Sander,” he said, holding out his hand. 

“Yes, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” his mama said. She took his hand and shook it quickly before ushering him inside the rest of the way. “Robbe has told me so much about you.” As soon as Sander stepped fully inside of the foyer, his mama was closing the door. Smiling to himself, Robbe returned to placing the rest of the bed in the basket. “I’m so glad we were able to meet today!” 

“Me too,” Sander said. “Robbe has told me a lot about you as well. It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. IJzermans.”

“Oh, please, call me Marie.” His mother stepped into the kitchen. Sander was on her heels, with Zoë and Senne trailing behind with the bottle of non-alcoholic wine. As his mother immediately went to put the brand new bouquet of flowers into the vase, Sander sent a flirtatious grin his way. Robbe didn’t miss the way Sander’s eyes did a quick once over of his body. “All good things I hope,” his mama said. 

“Of course, they’re good things, Mama,” Robbe said. He placed the bread on the table before turning to Sander, who snaked one arm around his waist. 

His mother giggled as she filled the vase with water. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. 

“Hey,” Robbe said. 

“Hey,” Sander echoed before he closed the distance between their lips. Sander’s kiss was gentle and soft. Even in the enclosed space with his mama, Senne, and Zoë, Robbe half-expected Sander to push open his mouth and lick inside. But he was also thankful that Sander kept it chaste as he could. There was a hint of added pressure at the end with a small tug of his shorter hair. When their kiss broke, Sander beamed at him, tugging at the collar of Robbe’s own button up. “You didn’t have to get dressed up for me.”

Robbe raised his eyebrow and tugged on Sander’s collar. “You should take your own advice.” Sander grinned and kissed him again. 

One of the cabinets was thrown open too hard and the entire group turned to Zoë, who was checking to make sure that the cabinet was okay. She turned to them with a sheepish look on her face. “Sorry! I always miscalculate with your cabinets, Mama.”

“It’s alright,” his mama said. She turned to Senne, who was leaning against the door frame. “You said it’s non-alcoholic, right?” Senne nodded as Zoë started pulling wine glasses from the cabinets. Sander moved over and grabbed the wine bottle from the counter. “Good, good,” she said. “Alcohol messes with my medication and I need to make sure that I don’t take too much.” 

Even though everyone in the room knew that his mama took medication, Robbe could see the brief second of her shoulders stiffening up. It was like her brain had caught up to what she said and she was beginning to panic internally. Robbe could feel the gears turning in his own head, to try and divert attention back to the dinner at hand, but before he could even think of it, Sander was saying, “Yeah. Alcohol messes with my medication, too. My therapist keeps telling me not to drink more than a glass.”

When his mother’s shoulders loosened, Robbe let out a breath of relief. 

“Yeah,” Senne said, already laughing. “And yet, you still end up having more than a glass anyways.”

As Sander poured a glass, he didn’t spare Senne a second glance. “Yeah, yeah, I know that but sometimes, I just can’t stop myself, okay?” Senne laughed loudly as Zoë handed him another glass. Like clockwork, the two of them alternated until there were five even glasses on the table. 

“The food is getting cold,” Zoë said, handing the last wine glass to his mama. 

As the rest of them settled down at the table, Robbe glanced at his mama. She was staring at the flowers and holding the glass of wine in one hand. But even though part of her face was obscured by hair, Robbe could see a smile growing. Turning to them, she moved over and sat down in the only remaining chair between Zoë and Sander (as Sander had promptly claimed the folding chair). 

Taking a sip of the wine as Zoë passed out the food, his mama asked, “So, what do you do, Sander?”

“Wow, you really don’t tell anyone about me, do you?” 

The remark was directed towards Robbe, who simply shrugged, but there was a fond smile on Sander’s face nonetheless. “I don’t know. I’ve always had more important things to talk about than your job.” 

Sander grinned, patting his knee beneath the table, before answering his mama, “I’m a tattoo artist.” 

“Oh, and do you like your work?”

“Very much so.”

“Good. That’s what everyone should strive for. If you like your work and you enjoy what you do, you’re doing something right.”

* * *

**Vrijdag 22:41**

* * *

In the end, Robbe knew that they would have to return to this bar eventually. 

It was the bar where Robbe had gone with the Broerrrs to have a guy’s night—a futile attempt to get his mind off Sander—and it was the bar where Robbe had run into the person who would change his entire world. It was the bar where Sander had seen him for the first time. It was the bar where, pardon the cliché, everything had changed… for the better. And it was where he was heading to now. 

About halfway through his typical Friday night stream, his phone had buzzed. When he checked his phone on one of his breaks, he found a text from Sander:  _ You’ll never guess who I found. _ There was a photo attached and it was of Sander… with Jens, Lucas, and Aaron. In the background, he could see Moyo with one arm around Noor. 

Robbe had gotten the post-stream invite to meet up but he hadn’t known if he was going to meet up with them. His typical post-stream regime was to sleep away the exhaustion of talking nearly non-stop for three hours. But, still, once the stream had ended and his computer had shut off, Robbe found himself reaching for his tennis shoes and lacing them up. Once he called goodbye to Jonathan and Milan, he was headed out the door and down to his bike. 

The bike ride over to the bar—Lilly’s bar—didn’t take a long time, or at least that was what it felt like. But, that might’ve been because Robbe was so eager to get there, so eager to be with his friends, with his  _ boyfriend _ , and his boyfriend’s friends, that he might’ve biked a little harder than he normally would’ve. Once he locked his bike against the rack, Robbe quickly moved in the direction of the bar. 

From the windows, it looked busier than it had been when Robbe had originally been there. Still, Robbe had no trouble picking out Sander’s bleach blond hair amongst everyone at the bar. The yellow glow of the light was flattering and made him look like he was surrounded in a halo. Sander was standing at the back at the bar with his camera in his hands. Lucas stepped into view beside him with two beers in hand. Sander took one of the beers and they continued talking. 

Feeling warmth flood his entire body, he practically sprinted to the front door in an effort to get inside quicker. However, even in his rush, Robbe managed to catch the sight of the door opening. In an instant, Robbe snapped back into focus and jumped away from the door as it swung open. Someone stepped out with dark brown hair, a pair of shorts, and a to-go bag on one wrist. 

Robbe was so eager to get inside that he didn’t even pay attention to who it was until—

“Robbe?” 

Stopping short of the door, he turned. In the bright spotlight outside the front door, Robbe could see the features of the person. But his mind was so consumed with thoughts of going inside that it took a few seconds to realize that he knew the man. It took him a handful of moments after to realize  _ who  _ it was.

Thomas. 

“Hey, Thomas,” Robbe said. Glancing inside to find Sander still engrossed in a conversation with Lucas, Robbe took a step back. Thomas was dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a simple maroon shirt. The bag of to-go containers was cutting deeply into his wrist, but he didn’t seem eager to go anywhere. He just remained halted across from Robbe and rocked from one foot to the other. Swallowing, Robbe asked, “How are you doing?”

“Okay,” Thomas said, shrugging. “The trial is finally over with so that’s good.” Robbe nodded absent-mindedly, glancing back into the bar to find Sander still deep in conversation with Lucas. “What about you? How have you been?”

“I’m great,” Robbe said. He shoved his hands in his pockets as Thomas switched the to-go bag to his other hand. “My streams have been doing well lately. Plus, Mama has been having a lot of good days lately, which is always good. So, it’s all been going good.” 

Thomas nodded, smiling. “That’s good. So, what are you doing here at this old place?” 

“Oh,” Robbe said. “Well, I finished my stream and Jens invited me out earlier so I—”

As if on cue, the door swung open. But, instead of Jens, it was Sander. 

Nodding nonchalantly to Thomas, Sander made a beeline to him. There was a smile on his face, brightening up his face instantaneously. “There you are,” Sander said, softly as though it was only the two of them on the street. Even though Thomas was an arm’s length away, Robbe couldn’t resist the urge to place his hands on Sander’s chest, feeling the drum of his heartbeat against his palm. “I was starting to think that you weren’t going to come and I was going to have to come drag you out of your bed.” 

Robbe grinned. “Or I dragged you in it.”

“Or that, too.” 

Sander cupped his jaw before pulling him into a short but positively blinding kiss—as though Thomas wasn’t even there. Despite the short length, it was by far one of the dirtiest kisses that Sander had ever given him… in public. Almost instantly, Robbe’s mouth was pushed open and Sander’s tongue had slipped past his teeth. He clung tightly to his shirt, bit down on his bottom lip, and pulled them close at the hips. All at once, a warmth of love and safety enveloped him and Robbe wanted to hold onto it for as long as he could. The kiss was gone too soon, but the warmth lingered in his chest as Robbe blinked up at him, a little dazed. 

“Come on,” Sander said, grinning triumphantly. “Lucas and I were just talking about cameras.”

“Okay,” Robbe said, giggling. He was barely able to manage a dazed goodbye to Thomas before Sander was tugging him into the bar. Once they were safely inside, a vaguely familiar song blasting over the speakers, Sander wrapped an arm around Robbe. He mirrored his boyfriend’s movement before grinning up at Sander. “What was that for?”

“What was what for?” Sander asked innocently. 

As Sander tugged him through the crowd, Robbe searched out their friends. He spotted Zoë with one arm draped over Senne’s shoulder as she talked excitedly with Yasmina. Moyo and Noor were dancing in the shadows, wrapped up in each other’s presence. Britt had one arm around Alicia’s waist as she talked with Amber, Luca, and Aaron. If Milan weren’t sick or Jana in America, Robbe figured that they would’ve been here,too. All of their friends in one place… somehow, the thought of all of them together warmed Robbe further. 

“You know exactly what I mean,” Robbe said, tugging at Sander’s waist. 

Sander let out a sigh. There was a look on his face that was an almost convincing attempt at annoyance, but Robbe could see the corners of his lips upturned in a slight smile. “I don’t have any problem showing the fact that I’m absolutely in love with you.” Robbe felt his cheeks flush up. “Thomas was foolish enough to lose you and I’m not about to make the same mistake that he did.”

Robbe shook his head as they neared Lucas, who was holding onto a camera. Even though they were close to their friends, Robbe couldn’t find it in himself to care. Without hesitation, he turned fully to Sander, who dropped his hands to Robbe’s hips to guide him backward. Robbe smiled at him and said, “I love you, you know that?” 

“I do,” Sander said. “I love you, too.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, Robbe was rising up to press a kiss against his lips. Because they were in a more public place—and maybe because Thomas was no longer around—this kiss was a lot more chaste, simple and loving. Robbe pulled Sander closer to his body, fisted his fingers in the hair on the nape of his neck, and kissed him a little deeper. 

But the kiss didn’t last long before it was interrupted. Only, instead of Senne with a pillow, it was Jens. “Hey, lovebirds,” Jens said. Robbe turned toward Jens, who had arrived at Lucas’s side, and Sander settled against Robbe’s side. He had one arm thrown over his shoulder with an extra beer in his hand. Lucas was focused on the camera in his hands. “You can eat each other’s faces off later. Right now, we’re hanging out and having beers.” 

Without pulling away from Sander, who had his nose pressed against his cheek, Robbe said, “I’m sorry. Who was the one that is continuously ten minutes late to meeting up with his friends because he always stops to make out with his boyfriend?” 

Lucas laughed, turning to press a kiss against the curve of Jens’s jaw. “He got you there, babe!” 

Jens flipped Robbe off. 

Still wrapped in his arms, Sander chuckled. His breath brushed across his cheek as his arms tightened around Robbe’s waist. Instead of turning out of Sander’s arms toward his friend, Robbe turned back to Sander and placed a gentle kiss against his lips. He ignored the sound of Jens’s whistle and the gentle slap that Lucas made against Jens’s cheek. Robbe just pulled Sander closer and kissed him a little deeper.

Robbe broke their kiss, beaming at Sander. Once Sander patted his side, Robbe snatched the extra beer from Jens’s grasp, and Sander restarted the camera conversation that he quickly got lost in. Zoë showed up a few seconds later, wrapping her arms around the both of them. With her electric blue hair falling down in waves, Alicia was there soon after and hugged Robbe tightly. After a while, Sander put the camera away and the group started sharing embarrassing stories. The smaller groups had merged into one gigantic group of melodious laughter and the bartender kept refilling their beers promptly.

As the night drew on, Robbe would have a few drinks and so would Sander. They would lean on each other a little too much and laugh a little too loudly before going back to the flatshare together. In the morning, Robbe would wake up in Sander’s arms with his nose pressed against his neck. In the evening, Robbe would nervously stumble through his words as Sander’s father and step-mother beamed brightly at him and Amber would be doing the same with Aaron at her side. For every day after that, they would live their lives one minute to the next—even the long ones, even the bad ones. 

Robbe knew that he had forever and a day to be with Sander. 

And he was looking forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know that it hasn’t always been easy—especially for me—but everyone who has stuck with me through this incredible journey. i had to take a week off to get ahead and then i had two weekends in a row where i didn’t post anything. but we got here in the end and i have all your support to thank for that.
> 
> to everyone who has liked or replied or reblogged a clip or sent me an ask or those who waited until the full chapter was out or simply read the this story, i just have one thing to say: thank you so much. your support was amazing and i hope to bring you more stories (or at least gifs for a little bit) back soon. this story means the world to me and i’m so happy to have gone on this journey with you all. 
> 
> thank you all <3

**Author's Note:**

> Want to see this story "clip-by-clip"? I post the scenes daily as they happen in the story at 21:00 (Belgian Time) on my Tumblr account: [sanderijzermans (formerly ravenbrenna09)](https://sanderijzermans.tumblr.com/)


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